Amestris AD
by Doctor Yok
Summary: Amestris, year 2165, is a wasteland. Father and a new breed of Homunculi walk freely in their cities, while humans must swear their allegience or forfeit their lives. But if this is 2165, how is Ed there too? Well, that's what he'd like to know.
1. Amnesia

Amestris A.D.

_What the hell happened? _

Those were the first words that went through Ed's mind as he lie on his back, head throbbing. All he remembered was that he was fighting in Amestris's underground. Something had happened in the middle of it that he couldn't seem to quite remember. No matter how hard he thought about it, he just couldn't recall how he'd ended up where he was.

But remembering the bit about being in the middle of a battle made him stand up pretty quick

And he was knocked back down just as easily. Head throbbing worse than before, and a lump the size of a goose's egg growing on his forehead, Edward touched whatever he'd bumped into. He soon found out that, along with not knowing what had happened or what had hit him, he was also blind. His fingers bumped into something hard and metal. It was only two feet away from the floor that Ed was lying on. Ed presumed he must be in some sort of crawl space somewhere.

_Did Al stash me here when I got knocked out? Damn it, what the hell happened to me? _He punched the ceiling with his metal hand and it rang like a bell. He was blind, he was confused, and he had a _really _vicious headache because it felt like little gnomes were trying to beat their way out of his head using sledgehammers and a couple of wrecking balls. Breathing deep, Ed thought, _Okay, be rational. You're probably in hiding. It's probably made of metal. If there's a way in, there's a way out. _

Sanity finally taking residence in Ed's head, he clapped his hands and pressed them to the metal. And strangely enough, something happened that hadn't happened in a long time.

Nothing.

The metal wall above him didn't move at all. It didn't change either. There were no lights, no sparks that usually came with a transmutation. Suddenly remembering Father's ability to nullify alchemy underground, he cursed using every word he knew in Amestrian, as well as a few in Xingese he'd heard Ling use. Furiously, he kicked the ceiling, not caring if anyone heard him or not.

Breathing hard, he realized that if this was an enclosed space, he only had a couple of minutes' worth of air. Breathing shallowly, he explored the small place he was in.

He discovered it was a small rectangular box approximately six feet by three feet by two feet. It was probably made of metal, if his automail had anything say about it. It rung like a school bell every time he hit the walls of his tiny prison. There were no obvious exits.

Sighing, Ed quit trying to bust out. It had been about five minutes, and he was still breathing just fine. Feeling around the inside of the prison, he found that there was a strange, raised cylinder on top of the ceiling. Knocking a knuckle on the cylinder, he found it to be quite solid. Groaning with frustration, he sat back. A whisper of air brushed his face. Frowning, the blonde-haired alchemist realized that if this was indeed a completely enclosed space, there would be no moving air…

Scrabbling for the source of the moving air, he found it in the seam between two walls where they met. There was the smallest crack. If Ed focused hard, he could just see a bit of light shimmering through. With renewed vigor, he started to hit the inside of the prison, watching with unconcealed glee that the crack was getting just _that much _wider. He continued to bang the inside away. Every now and again, he'd press an ear to the ceiling so he could listen for voices if there were any. For the most part, it was silent.

After an hour of banging away at the ceiling the crack had become about as wide and as long as a finger's length. Ed panted and pressed an ear to the ceiling. To his surprise, he heard voices.

"…hear that?"

"…what do….mean? …hear…single thing."

The voices were unfamiliar, but after an hour trapped in this tiny space, they were like a choir of angels to Ed's ears.

"HEY!! HEY, IN HERE! GET ME OUT OF HERE!!" he yelled, banging harder on the ceiling. The alchemist continued to shout and kick at the ceiling before his foot collided with open air. Blinking in the extremely bright sunshine, he looked up to two dark clothed people that had huge guns strapped to their backs.

Ed suddenly realized that if these guys worked for Father, he'd be screwed.

He automatically bolted, deciding not to take chances. However, Edward hadn't taken a few things into account. For one, he'd been exposed to _sunlight, _therefore he wasn't underground. For two, if these people had wanted to kill him, they would've done so the minute that the prison was opened. Three, he had no idea where he was.

The minute that he hopped out of that little box, he stopped dead in his own footsteps. He backed up a bit in horror. Ed shook his head, looking around in disbelief. He was honestly contemplating if he'd ended up in Hell. Maybe God was finally punishing him or something like that.

What he saw was a landscape of apocalyptical proportions. The massive buildings around him were scattered like felled trees. Skeletons dotted the road he was standing on. Sand blew through the gutted city. The wind howled in the empty buildings and the barren landscape.

"Where the…am I… Is this Hell or something?" Ed asked the two standing behind him. The taller black man on the right shook his head.

"It might as well be, but no. This isn't Hell. At least, I don't think it is," he shrugged. The woman next to him looked inside of the box that he'd ended up in.

"Smart man, hiding in a safe. However, you aren't so smart as to actually lock the thing so you couldn't get back out," the woman commented. Ed looked at the box he'd been fighting his way out of for the past couple hours.

It was black metal laced with something else. It was empty as of then, but the inside was gray with little bits of paper littered at the bottom. He stared at it with disbelief. How'd he get in there?!

"I didn't hide in the safe. In fact, I don't know what happened at all. I don't even remember what happened to me!" he shouted, throwing up his hands. He looked around.

"Where am I anyways?" he asked. He tamped down panic as he realized he had no idea how to get back to Al and the others in Amestris' underground labs. In fact, he could be in a completely different country. Maybe he was in Xing or maybe to that country to the south, which he could never remember the name of. Perhaps the Homunculi had knocked him out and stuffed him into a small safe and dropped him off to hell knows where!

The fretting teenager was jerked out of his thoughts as the woman said, "You don't even know what country you're in? You must've gotten a pretty heavy bonk to the head in that safe if you don't know. This is Amestris, buddy." Ed snapped around to stare at the woman. He gave her his most deathly glare and growled, "Don't toy with me! Where ever this place is, it isn't Amestris!" The woman looked at him with a calm face and hefted her gun.

"I wouldn't speak like that if I were you," she said in a nonchalant tone of voice. Her partner patted her on the shoulder as he warned, "Easy, easy. He's a kid, see? A little thing."

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL HE RIDES DUST MOTES?!?!"

Rolling his eyes, the black man took his partner and spoke to her in private. Ed huffed and sat down in the sand, staring up at the shells that had once been buildings. He'd never seen anything so big. Even in Central, you couldn't find anything this massive. HQ would probably fit into one of these things with space to spare. Curious, Edward walked up to one of them, fingering a steel strut. The very smallest frame of the thing was thicker than Ed! Of course, everything was bigger than Ed, but…

"Hey! Don't touch that!" the woman yelled. Ed jerked his hand back reflexively, and yelled back defiantly, "And if I do?!"

"The whole structure might collapse, you dipwad!" the woman shouted angrily. Ed scrambled back, craning his neck up to see the remains of the giant building. If this thing were to just suddenly cave in on itself… He shuddered and ran to catch up to the two who were walking down the sorry excuse for a road that ran through the middle of the derelict city.

The wind echoed eerily through the hollow structures. Ed shivered. He wasn't one to be superstitious, but the sounds of the wind made him think of ghosts. Chastising himself for being an idiot, he focused on the two in front of him.

The people in front of him didn't seem to mean him any harm, though that could change at a pin's drop, it seemed. The black man was pretty old, probably in his fifties or so. The woman was younger, probably in her thirties. They both wore the same vinyl clothing, despite the arid atmosphere. Each of them had a gun, a small backpack, and a pair of what appeared to be goggles, though Ed couldn't be sure. They were very tense and quiet, as if they didn't want to get caught. But caught by what?

Ed ran into the back of the black man. He stumbled and hit the ground, earning himself a nice sized bruise on his gluteus maximus. He was going to say something rather rude to the man in front of him, but both of them had gone completely still and silent.

"…You hear that?" the black man whispered. The woman nodded.

"Oh yeah."

"You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

"You can bet your life on it. Literally," she answered, quickly running off. The black man stooped down next to Ed and mumbled an apology.

"What's with the- THE HELL?!" The black man lifted Ed in a bride's carry and ran as fast as he could to his partner. For someone so old, he could definitely run fast. Ed screamed profanities until the woman finally got him to close his mouth.

"We're being pursued. I think it would be best if you _shut up._" Ed's mouth slammed shut. The man and woman continued running until they reached an odd-looking vehicle with many wheels. Ed couldn't make head or tails of the thing.

"How many?" the black man asked. The woman answered, "Maybe five, possibly more."

"More what?" Edward asked irritably. The black man ignored him and whispered urgently, "We need to get out of here now. What do you think led them here?" The woman's eyes shifted over to Ed. The aforementioned shrimp blinked and noticed that both of them were staring at him.

"Don't stare at me! I don't even know what's chasing us!" Ed hissed quietly. The woman shook her head and stated, "This is a waste of time. Just trank him and go." The black man shook his head.

"The little man—"

"I'M NOT LITTLE!"

"—Doesn't even know what country he's in. What do you think would happen if we tranked him?" The woman glared at Edward and mumbled, "It would be a lot quieter." Ed did the most immature thing he could think of, just to get on her nerves. He blew a raspberry in her face. The woman didn't appreciate that because she pulled out a very small handgun and aimed it squarely in the middle of Ed's forehead.

"Uh, Georgia…"

"Shut up Kojak. I've had enough with this twit." She cocked the small gun, and it made a strange whirring noise. Ed put up his hands in forfeit.

"Easy with that thing...you might hurt someone…" _Like, I don't know, ME?! _

Kojak continued to try and persuade Georgia to put down the gun. The brunette lifted one perfectly sculpted eyebrow and pulled the trigger.

A small patch of electric blue flew out of the gun and stuck itself to Ed's forehead. It suddenly flashed bright then faded into his skin. In seconds, Edward was fast asleep. Kojak scratched the back of his head.

"Did you really have to do that?" he sighed, picking up the limp alchemist and stowing him away in the Octis. The vehicle's eight legs splayed out a bit as Kojak added his own weight to Ed's. It had the look of an ATV; it just had extra wheels behind the mains.

"Actually, yes I did. If the kid had made any more noise, those stupid chimeras would've gotten us in no time flat. I lied when I said five. I meant nine. You better get moving out of here before one of them decides to eat you. I didn't want to freak out the kid any more than I needed to," Georgia explained. Kojak nodded, knowing that Georgia didn't do anything without some sort of reason, however flawed that reason may be.

Georgia climbed up on her own Octis, and revved the quiet engine. It made a smooth whisper of air. Both Kojak and Georgia hit a button on the panel of their rides, and they were gone in a whirl of sand.

Blearily, Ed rubbed his face. He'd had one hell of a night. At first, he'd dreamt that he'd been dropped in a safe, and then these people found him and yelled at him a lot…well, the woman did, but Ed was used to women yelling at him all the time. Winry did it, Maria did it, Granny did it… And then there was that awful landscape! It was all gray and lifeless, and there was sand everywhere.

Sure that he'd woken up in an infirmary, he tried to swing his legs out on to a wooden floor. Instead, he fell down and landed on something a lot colder and much, much harder. After muttering several words unpublishable, he stood up and took a look around.

The room was incredibly barren, with only a chair, a sink, a toilet, and a bed. In fact, it was pretty reminiscent to the prison cell he'd shared with Al at the Brigg's Fort in the mountains. He blinked, and realized that the 'dream' he had had was _not _a dream.

It was more of a living nightmare.

Yelling wordlessly with frustration, he kicked a wall with his automail leg. It bounced off harmlessly, though there was a good sized dent in one of his toes. Glaring at the wall as if he could melt through it, he thought about how angry Winry would be when he told her he'd smashed his toe into a wall inside of some strange prison in the middle of nowhere. He wondered if they still had the 'one phone call' rule here in…where ever.

"That isn't a smart thing to do, you know," a young, female voice from above said. Ed looked up, but all he saw was the white, plastic ceiling with its one fluorescent light. He frowned.

"Where exactly are you?" he asked.

"I'm somewhere." Rolling his eyes at the vague response he asked, "Okay, I think I figured that out. The key word was 'exactly.'"

"Who are you?" the voice asked as if Ed had never spoken at all. At this point, Ed was getting very angry. He'd been locked in an enclosed space, called _little, _shot, and now he was being interrogated by a voice that didn't seem to come from anywhere. This wasn't Ed's idea of fun, though God seemed to think otherwise.

"Your worst pain in the ass. Who are you?" he quipped in an irate tone. The voice didn't answer back. It seemed that Edward had made it quite hurt.

After several seconds silence, it came back saying, once more, "Who are you?" Rubbing his temples, Ed finally answered, "Edward Elric." There was more silence. After several minutes, the voice asked, "What year is it, Edward Elric?" Raising an eyebrow inquisitively, he answered hesitantly, "It's 1915." Again, there was silence.

"Edward Elric, where do you originate from?" Sighing with annoyance, Ed asked, "Can't I get some answers?!"

"Please, Edward Elric, answer the question." If Ed had known where the voice was coming from, he would've flipped them the bird. However, he couldn't do so, and therefore he had to answer said question.

"I'm from Resembool, Amestris," he drawled out, making a point of staring at the ceiling with a hateful glare. He didn't like to give out information about himself. It was quiet for a time…

And then a door opened out of nowhere with a quiet _whoosh. _A smart looking blonde woman with black eyes came in. Ed scrambled to the far wall, away from the magic door that had suddenly opened out of nowhere. It closed behind the woman and the wall was a wall again. Cautiously stepping away, he stepped past the woman to inspect the wall. The woman didn't seem to be expecting that because she stared curiously at him.

Ed felt the wall with his hands, trying to find some sort of seam in the wall that would betray the whereabouts of the door. He blinked because the wall was completely flawless. It was just a wall.

"You've never seen anything like our Octises, or these types of automatic sliding doors have you, Edward?" the woman asked, her face a cool mask. She wore black vinyl like everyone else, other than she wore a short jacket over the regular clothing and the jacket sported two long yellow stripes across the arms. Ed studied the face over his shoulder before fully turning around. He hadn't noticed it before, but she looked exactly like—

"My name is Hilary Mustang. I am a Commander here at Oasis," she introduced, holding out a hand. Ed shook it.

"I'm Ed. Edward Elric, the Full Metal Alchemist." Ed studied the face in front of him. At first glance, she looked exactly like Riza, but from closer inspection, he could see that her nose was too thin and her hair was too light. Her eyes were the wrong color, but they were the exact shade of black that Colonel Mustang had. Who was this doppelganger, really, that she looked like Riza and Roy mixed together? She even had the Colonel's last name…

Hilary motioned for Ed to sit down. He declined by staying standing up. She sighed.

"I'm going to tell you now, you are going to want to sit down. If you don't, you might fall over," Hilary warned. Ed cocked his head to the side and assured, "I'll take my chances." Closing her coal black eyes, she breathed deep.

"I've got a lot to tell you, Edward. A lot to tell you. I'm hoping that none of it's too disturbing as well. You might not like what you hear. I can almost guarantee you will probably be shocked. You have no idea what's happened because you suffered from head trauma as well as retrograde amnesia. Do you know what that is?" Hilary asked before continuing. Ed had been staring at the far wall for quite a while, on taking in half of what Hilary was saying.

"Not really, no. I know what amnesia is, but I don't know what retrograde amnesia is," he said. Hilary nodded.

"Well, retrograde amnesia is one of the things that can occur when one receives head trauma. We found that you had a concussion as well as a good sized lump on your forehead." As she said that, Ed gingerly touched his forehead. "Retrograde amnesia is where you can't recall what happened before the event of which you received the head trauma. You won't be able to remember what happened before someone whacked you over the head." Ed nodded. That was easy enough to understand. Now, how did they figure out he had it in the first place?

Hilary didn't leave any space for questions. She plowed straight on through to the point.

"Edward, the year here in Amestris isn't 1915. It's 2165. You're 250 years into the future."


	2. Invasion

Descendants

Ed lay on the bed facing the far wall. He kept turning over all of the information he had been given by Com. Hilary Mustang. It made sense…yet at the same time, it didn't make sense. Perhaps it was because he was so far in the future that he felt like a stranger in his own country. Maybe it was because he'd never really felt very patriotic towards his country in the first place.

What ever the reason, he was exhausted, both mentally and physically. He rewound his entire conversation with Hilary in his head.

"Edward, the year here in Amestris isn't 1915. It's 2165. You're 250 years into the future." Hilary stood calmly, her face never changing out of its careful look of severity. Ed's eyebrows met as he frowned and stared at her as if she had just declared that the moon was made of cheese.

"This is…some type of elaborate joke, right? Mustang put you guys up to this! I don't know how, but—"

Hilary cut him off sharply. "Edward, I can assure you I am not joking. The year here is really 2165. If you don't believe me, I can make you believe. You can ask any question and I'll answer it to the best of my ability." Edward started to breathe hard, as if there wasn't enough air in the room. His face transformed to a look of worry and anxiety.

"How did I get here?" Ed asked. Hilary closed her eyes as she confessed, "I don't know. The only clue we have is that you disappeared and were pronounced MIA after the first coup with Father. There was an eye witness report of you going into a room fighting a few artificial soldiers and never coming back out. Obviously, you were still alive. Some of our top alchemists believe that your disappearance may be linked to something called alphysics." Edward began to pace back and forth. A hand to his chin, he thought hard.

At last, he asked, "What happened to Amestris? Why is it a desert instead of…of—"

"—trees? Grass? Mountains? The answer is simple," Hilary said, "when Father drew that circle under Amestris, he meant to take all of the life inside of it. If you want an example, look at what happened to Xerxes. It hadn't always been a desert city; at least I don't think so. Father drained all of the life out of the country. Anything within the circle that was living had its soul or life force drained. It created this desertification process." Ed nodded. It made sense to him. It was hard to exclude certain elements from alchemical transmutations. It was a skill that a few alchemists possessed, to be able to keep one certain element or byproduct out of the equation. It was possible, but it was a bit difficult. Despite being the founder of Amestrian alchemy, Father didn't have that skill when it came to a Living Transmutation because he'd only ever done something that huge once.

Edward decided that the only way he could really guess if he was in the future was if he asked for the entire history of Amestris since he'd been gone. Cautiously, watching Hilary's face, he finally inquired, "What's happened in Amestris since 1915?" Hilary's cool mask never changed.

"You'll have to be a bit more specific. Do you want the major military events along with scientific discovery, or just the major occurrences starting at 1915?" Hilary asked. Edward tapped his chin and looked down at the ground in thought.

"Give me the military events. Just those," he said. Hilary nodded.

"I may not be the best person to answer those questions. I don't know the complete history, though there is someone I do know who is prolific in that field," she said, moving a strand of hair out of her face. She lifted her arm in a position that made Ed think of someone who was about to check their wristwatch. Instead of a watch, though, there was a long, greave-like device attached to her forearm. It was white with a screen that showed a lengthy line of text. There was a miniaturized keyboard underneath the screen. A small pill-sized speaker was located to the left of it. The screen took up most of the space on the greave.

Ed watched this new gadget with fascination. Hilary moved her finger so that she was stroking the screen. Then she tapped it and a bright light lit up her face. Ed frowned. This technology was…very, very strange. It was pretty, but what did it do?

He soon found out when a voice said, "2nd Lt. Higgins here. Commie room four, all positions functioning. You needed something, Com. Mustang?" Ed watched in utter amazement. His mouth literally hung open. The voice sounded like the person was in the room with them! But where was it coming from? Surely not that little thing on her arm!

"Yes, this is Mustang. I need Gray here in IsoCell 14. Can you contact his Commie?" she asked.

"Um, negative, Commander. He's got it off…again." For the first time she'd walked into that room, Ed saw Mustang's mask fall. She rolled her eyes and sighed irritably before she growled, "Then make sure he gets it on. Can't you turn it on from up there in the Commie room?"

"Negative, Mustang. His trace has him in one of the lower Subterra levels. He's too far down there for the Commie room to reach him. Even if it was on, it would get some pretty bad reception. It's mostly static when you go down that deep," 2nd Lt. Higgins admitted sheepishly from the greave's speaker. Mustang rolled her eyes and started to walk out.

"I'll be back in as little as ten minutes. If you need anything, just give a shout. Gram will get it for you," Hilary drawled as she was about to walk out of the cell. Ed frowned.

"Who's Gram? Is that the person who keeps talking through the ceiling?" Ed asked, realizing how foolish he sounded. If he'd said something like that in 1915, they would've had him enrolled in a mental hospital. Chances were, this _was _a mental hospital and he was imagining all of this. His mother always told him he had an overactive imagination…

"Gram? Oh, right, you're from the past. Gram's a computer. You'll get used to it," Hilary assured. Ed stared blank faced at Hilary's retreating back. He hadn't learned a single thing about the person in the ceiling, _or _how he got here _or _what in Paracelsus' name was going on. What the hell's a computer?

A few puzzling minutes later, Hilary walked back into the cell with a man with green eyes, a pointy nose, and a large shaggy mop of blonde-white hair. He wore these wire rimmed glasses that were a lot like Greed's, except clear. He reminded Edward of a large, fluffy, fidgety bird. The man always seemed to be moving.

The man extended a hand to Edward. Hesitantly, Ed gripped it and shook. It seemed that the old tradition of shaking hands didn't change too much from century to century.

"Hello, Ed! I'm Grayson Hemmer. I'm the lead historian here at Oasis. You wanted to know about the history of Amestris circa 1910 to now, correct?" he sped, speaking with clear, defined words. Ed nodded his head and sat down on his small bed.

Grayson nodded his head. "Well, let's start with the beginning, shall we? Most things start at the beginning anyways and it gets confusing if—"

Hilary stood behind him menacingly and muttered, "Gray…"

He winced and said, "Right. Moving on, moving on. Sorry. I'm a bit…enthusiastic. I can't wait to get you to the library! Maybe you could help me clear up a few things that happened in the early 1900's."

"Grayson."

"Right, right." Mustang seemed to be Grayson's…caretaker of sorts. Where Mustang was cool and careful, Grayson was more energetic and impulsive. He seemed to be bursting out of his body, he was so bouncy. Hilary was a leash, if nothing else. It made Ed wonder what type of drugs they had here in the future.

"Well, the coup you took place in was a failure. They lost a lot of men in that fight, as well as the Homunculi. Father's Promised Day, however, was put off for the time being. Colonel Roy Mustang regrouped and waited for the next opportunity to lead another coup d'état," Grayson said. He paused as Ed visibly deflated on the bed.

"We…we lost?" he mumbled. Grayson nodded. "If all historical accounts are true, yes, you did lose that fight." He plowed straight on.

"A year later, Riza Hawkeye and Roy Mustang founded Oasis, the organization you are in right now. It was a haven for those who were trying to escape the Homunculi or wished to fight them. It still is today, though it's much bigger than it was in 1916. In 1918 they led another coup." Sighing, Grayson stated gravely, "In that coup… about half of the commanding forces were obliterated. Father had somehow managed to create more Homunculi, and a new breed at that. It was much more resistant to fire type attacks as well as alchemical transmutation. Colonel Mustang, Maj. Armstrong, and about fifty other soldiers were killed in the attacks."

Ed received the news like a sucker punch to the gut. For some reason, Ed felt as if the world had gotten a little emptier. A world without Roy Mustang was…a boring world. He hated to admit it, but Ed would really miss him. He knew he was being idiotic, because if he really was 250 years into the future, that meant they'd been dead for a long time. But he'd miss him and Major Armstrong, as creepy and strange as he had been. It didn't seem possible that those people, who'd seemed part of the very _landscape _of Amestris, could suddenly be wiped off of the face of the planet like a bug off of a windshield.

Regardless, Ed motioned for Grayson to keep going.

"Are you sure?" Grayson asked, his nervously tapping fingers finally ceasing their dancing rhythm. Ed nodded.

"I need to know. I _have _to know."

Grayson understood that urge. No matter how gruesome, some things just had to be told and heard.

"After that, Oasis went deep underground to merge their forces with another existing anti-Homunculi group called Trinity founded by a woman named Mrs. Chris Mustang shortly after Roy Mustang's death. For the next two decades, they waited.

"During that waiting period, the first Octises and off-road vehicles were put into their prototype stage. Wireless communications started to take shape as well as a lot of other inventions. Rockets were created, and it wasn't long before the first test subjects were sent into space. Turned out space was a vacuum and things didn't last long up there," Grayson recited. In the back of his head, Edward marveled at Grayson's ability to remember things. He wondered if he was related to Scheizka.

"After a long hiatus, Oasis came back online. They started to attack the Homunculi using guerilla tactics instead of the usual military style. Many of these special attacks are still used to day, and were designed by Breda Heymans and Riza Hawkeye. A lot of our current electronics were devised by Kain Fuery. And a lot of our other inventions, as well as computers, were programmed by Kain Fuery as well," Grayson said, puffing up proudly. Ed raised one gold eyebrow and stated simply, "You're related to Kain Fuery somehow, aren't you?"

Grayson looked sheepish as he answered, "I'm his great-great nephew. I also have a knack for machinery, though metal parts are Willow's expertise." Clearing his throat, he continued, "Afterwards, Oasis caught wind that the Promised Day was coming again. They evacuated as many people as possible with the help of Ling Yao and Mei Chan into Xing. They were fortunate because about 1 billion people died in Amestris after the Promised Day due to the fact that they weren't evacuated quickly enough. However, they saved nearly 5 million lives. Oasis was spared because it was inside of a specialized bunker. They didn't expect the desertification to begin so quickly, though. The place you're in now is part of the original bunker, though it's grown fifty times its original size." Grayson gestured to the entire room plus the outside. He sighed as he leaned over to put his chin in his hand.

Adjusting his glasses, he said, "For a while, the cities repopulated. Father made his alchemists swear allegiance to the Amestrian military and continued to tinker belowground. Alchemy's been lost to us because of the time gap. For a long time, the alchemists suddenly died out and no one had any records or books on the subject. Right now, we have a grand total of twenty alchemists. Three are out of commission and one of them is stubborn as hell and refuses to come out of her shack in the ruins. The other fifty and their apprentices belong to Father." Grayson shrugged as he said, "After that, there were small skirmishes and the like. Nothing much to report on." He scratched his cheek as he said, "Let's see… eh, well, there were a bunch of inventions then, but I can't seem to remember all of them."

Ed sat there in disbelief, rubbing his aching head. Along with the blow to his noggin, he was having trouble taking all of it in. At last, he asked something that had been biting at his brain like a dog after a bone. The question had started chomping on his cerebral cortex after the mention of Mustang and Armstrong's deaths.

"What happened to Alphonse Elric?"

Grayson seemed to jerk upwards. He hesitated as he said, "Do you…really want to know?" Ed nodded enthusiastically. Grayson sighed and acquiesced.

"Alphonse Elric managed to regain his body, ironically, after the failed coup due to something Father did to him, though no one but him knows exactly what. He continued to work with Roy Mustang until his death. At age twenty-one he married Noel Barrillo and by age twenty-five he had three children, Edward, Nina, and Trisha. He continued to work with alchemy and his family survived the Promised Day by hiding in the Oasis bunker. He continued to search for you, despite everyone's belief that you were dead. He died in the year 1972 at age 97. His last words were 'I'll send you a postcard from heaven. Grandpa Ed will be in it,'" Grayson recited with a textbook quality. Ed nodded numbly. So, obviously, his brother had been dead for the past hundred or so years. It was a strange feeling, like someone had chopped off yet another limb from his body.

Feeling masochistic as of then, Edward asked, "And Winry Rockbell. What happened to her?"

Grayson winced. "Winry Rockbell married Henry Rockbell, her third cousin, twice removed. She died early at the age of thirty-two due to a machinery malfunction in the tunnels around the Oasis bunker, which I find ironic. She had two children, Daniel and Phillip Rockbell. Accounts from biographies and such stated that she was quite melancholy most of the time, but was otherwise happy."

In Grayson's mind, he thought that Edward was taking the news of these deaths quite well. Then again, he had just become the first time-traveler in the history of the world and had been jettisoned 250 years into his future. Yesterday, he might have actually _seen _all of these people, and now they were a hundred years dead. Grayson wondered what would happen if he was sent into the future? How would he feel?

There was an awkward pause as silence filled the air with a stiff quiet. At last, Edward admitted sadly, "I believe you." Winry's and Alphonse's deaths had been the final nails in the coffin. He really must be in the future. He didn't so much know as feel it. There couldn't be any denying it. If he tried to keep denying it, he'd probably go crazy. Maybe even if he accepted it, he'd go crazy anyways. Who knows what happens when you jump two and a half centuries?

"You will be staying in the Isolation Cell for the next few days to rid you of contaminants from the ruins. There are bacteria there that are toxic. Small traces won't hurt anybody, but if colonies start to grow outside of the IsoCell, we could have a real problem on our hands," Hilary explained. She picked off a piece of imaginary…stuff off of her uniform. Ed couldn't really say it was lint because they didn't seem to wear cloth.

"If you will excuse us, we must be going. I've got a meeting and Grayson needs a review of how to turn his Commie on in the Commie room," Hilary stated blandly, hauling up Grayson by the back of his shirt. He looked at her with horror and asked, "I have a review in the Commie room?! But I want to ask him some questions!"

"Not until you learn to use your Commie, you aren't," Hilary growled as she shoved him through the magic sliding door. Edward watched in amazement as the pair disappeared behind a sheet of white.

Suddenly processing the part about the bacteria, he shivered. They were _toxic?! _

Edward turned over again so he was staring at the ceiling instead. He'd thought this was a prison, but it was only a sterilization chamber. Well, it could've fooled him. There were so many new things that he couldn't seem to fit all of the information into his head. First, Grayson had explained what a computer did (with much difficulty). Second, he tried to explain how the wireless communicators worked, or the 'commies' as they called them for short. That wasn't quite as difficult, but still pretty tough to explain. Next, he tried to explain what everything was made of. That was probably easiest to understand because, regardless of century, matter is matter and it doesn't change. Most everything in the bunker was now either made of fiber optics, fiberglass, or something with a silicon base.

So, after discovering what everything was made of, Ed had attempted to make his room a little homier. He'd added a gargoyle, a fountain, a stall for the toilet, a picture window showing a castle, a chandelier, and a statue of a dog to boot. It was needless to say that Hilary made him turn it all back to its original form the next time she came in to see the menagerie everyone was talking about.

Still mulling over all of what he'd been told earlier that day (or was it night? He couldn't tell, here in this windowless room), he tossed over to stare at the far wall. Ed had finally figured out the not-so-magic sliding door after some tinkering around with the pad on the wall. Absent-mindedly, he drummed the table next to the bed with his metal fingers. That was when he heard the whispering.

They were slow at first and hardly distinguishable. For a minute, Ed thought that they were coming out of his own head, which would've just made his day. But then, the whispering got louder and more frantic. The words were easier to identify.

"Idiot…quiet…hear us…"

"You…up first then…"

"We…see him…ways, why not…loud?"

Cautiously staring at the invisible door which was the source of the whispering, he got up and silently stepped up to it. With a quick hand-motion over the door-pad, the sliding door _whooshed _open, and there stood three teenagers who looked as if they'd been caught doing something that they honestly shouldn't be doing.

For a few awkward seconds, they studied each other. To the three mysterious whisperers, Ed looked strange in his long coat, black half-jacket, tank top, and black jeans. His blonde hair wasn't so strange, but the length of it was. He was scruffy, dirty, and strange looking.

To Ed, the three teenagers looked like they were three people he knew vaguely that had stepped out of a space ship. All three wore the synthetic clothing in dark, drab colors, and wore their hair short. The girl was wearing a nylon bandana, as well as a strange looking tool belt. A boy next to her looked almost exactly like her, except his shirt was the color of sand, and his hair was just an inch shorter. The third teenager, a boy who was half a head taller than Ed, looked like a Hughes doppelganger. He had the same long jaw line and the same black hair. He didn't sport a beard, but then again Ed hadn't seen any men around with any sort of facial hair. Ed had hardly even seen any men!

"Eh…hello? Sorry to disturb you. I'm Richard. Richard Rockbell." The first teenage boy offered his hand hesitantly. His blue eyes and blonde hair immediately put Winry in mind. Ed cautiously shook and answered back, "Hi." The teenage boy's sister (it was quite plain to see, really) announced, "You're the freaky time-traveler dude, aren't you?" Ed's eyebrows flew to his hairline. Oh, so he was now dubbed the 'freaky time-traveler dude.' Fantastic.

"Wil-_low._" Her brother dug his elbow in her ribs. She gripped her side with a pained expression, before quickly switching over to indignation.

"Well, it's true!" The brother shook his head at Willow and stated, "I apologize. She's kind of…blunt."

"Yep, subtle as a neon sign, that's our Willow," the third teenager said in a characteristic Hughes' smile. "I'm Spencer March, and this young lady here is Willow Rockbell. Richie's her twin."

"Unfortunately," the aforementioned twin breathed, earning him a sharp jab to the stomach with a screwdriver.

"I heard that." Ed watched this strange sibling circus with an air of disbelief. Here were two of Winry's direct descendants, as well as another descendant of Hughes, perhaps. From what he could tell, Willow was about as socially adept as a hamster, while Richie was the butterfly in the intros section. And March was just…well, March. Ed was convinced he probably had an infatuation with a camera and several hundred photos.

"What are you guys doing here? Mustang told me I wasn't supposed to get visitors," Ed said, the only real thing he'd said. No, 'hi' doesn't count.

"Oh, we're not worried about the PMS Queen. And to answer your former question with another question, who _doesn't _want to meet an alchemist before the war?" Spencer answered as if it were the most obvious thing on the planet next to baked bread. Willow, untangling herself from a sibling spat, added, "Yeah, seriously. All the other alchemists are either too snooty, too old, or too far away. Not to mention Nirvana, with her head stuck up too far up her—"

"WIL-_LOW!_"

"It's true! The idiot needs to come back! She can't survive forever in the desert by herself!" Richie sighed dramatically as if he were speaking to a mentally handicapped person.

"Dear sister, I know this is hard for you to understand, but Nirvana actually knows _alchemy. _The only reason you can't walk outside in the dunes for two hours because…oh well, _you don't have it._" The siblings continued to bicker relentlessly.

Ed watched warily as words became clenched fists. "Are they going to be okay?"

"Yeah. They'll probably end up with a broken finger or two each, but they'll be fine." Ed watched Spencer, wondering if he was kidding. He didn't really look like it. It was kind of hard to tell.

Motioning him to come with, Spencer said, "Follow me away from the Terrible Two. You need a tour of this place. It'd be a shame if you got lost. You probably wouldn't be found for the next two weeks." Slightly disconcerted by his deadpan delivery of that piece of dry wit, Ed followed him hesitantly nevertheless. What the hell? Why not? It wasn't long before the 'Terrible Two' realized that they'd been left behind. Without a word, spat forgotten, they followed Spencer down the orange, fluorescent halls of the Oasis HQ.

The first place that Spencer went to was the main corridor of that floor. As he walked, he gave a running commentary of the bunker, its levels, and how things were organized.

"This bunker was originally built to hold only about a million people. After five million people flooded the place, the designers realized that they would have to create a lot more room if they were going to live in any sort of comfort. The entire place has about 300 some miles of passageways, backways, frontways, sideways, byways, whichways, and any other ways you can think of. The head quarters is built like a bunt cake." Ed looked at him for a moment with complete confusion.

"The biggest underground system in the world was designed after a _cake?_"

"A very good tasting cake, but yes, a cake, fundamentally." Shaking his head, Ed looked around as Spencer talked on. The entire corridor was built with concrete and had large supply lines of electric wires and plumbing. There was a lot of strange machinery as well, lit eerily by a systematic arrangement of orange lights. People were riding in large, open cabbed cars that looked sleek and efficient. Everyone wore the synthetic clothing, though they were cut in different styles and many people had added their own personal flare to their own clothes. They didn't seem at all bothered that they lived underground with tons upon tons of rock above their heads. Ed, himself, felt slightly nervous.

"…And though as much as I love cake, it seems slightly farfetched. By what I mean, is that there is a giant, central shaft of a sort in the middle of the headquarters. From that giant cylindrical hole (scientifically referred to as a 'vent') we build out wards to create different floors. The entire infrastructure is made of a type of crystal as strong as diamond and more heat-resistant than tungsten." Spencer had finally reached his destination. The giant hole (ahem. Vent.) that was the center of the entire floor, as well as the floor above it, and the one before that, and the one before that, etc. etc. etc. It was a massive thing, easily a third of a kilometer in diameter. There was a large walkway that rimmed the outside which was a good five meters wide. A safety rail was erected outside it for any foolish passersby who wanted to impress his friends by tottering on the lip of the hole.

The entire outside of the shaft was lined with bright fluorescent lights. Ed staggered towards the safety rail to look down in to the deep abyss. The only thought that Ed seemed to be able to register past his awe was, _Something this big should be illegal._ The twins finally caught up to Spencer and Ed. They too leaned over the railing to peer down into was seemed to be eternity.

"This thing has a bottom, right?" Ed asked Spencer, his voice full of wonder. He looked around him "And what makes these lights so bright? How do you support a place like this? Where do you get food? Where does your water come from? How do you purchase anything? Are you guys the only city left?" Richie laughed as Willow seemed to get lost in Ed's list of questions.

"Slow down, motor mouth, you just might swallow your tongue!" Willow exasperated, finally getting too confused with Ed's 1915-ish way of speaking. Richie only smiled and answered, "Yes, the Hole has a bottom. Its just so far down, it's kind of hard to see it. As to your other questions, these lights are fluorescent. In your time, there were incandescent bulbs. These, and the massive LEDs, are much brighter and have a longer life span than your regular incandescent, though in some of the older tunnels you still see them around."

Spencer took up the next question. "We are supported by, well, us. There's an entire city beneath the bunker layer. Remember when I said this place was like a bunt cake? Well, it was sectioned off so that the first section is the military barracks, the second layer is the living space of the civilians, the third layer is the storage area, and the last and final layer is called Subterra, where all of the labs and libraries are. Subterra is deepest because it's hardest to get to. All of the alchemist on our side live down there.

"The civilians have a market down there where they sell things for fair prices. We're a capitalist organization, though it's hard to keep it that way. We have farmers and animal-husbandry workers here that have been taking care of the plants and animals that are able to live underground. There are factories as well that creates the clothes and purifies the water that comes in from the rain, or through the rocks as well as the raw sewage. We waste nothing." At the last statement, Willow suddenly turned sad. She turned to the Hole and leaned on the rail sullenly.

"That isn't true." Ed looked to her as well as her twin. But the difference was that Ed was looking for answers, and her twin was hoping she'd shut up. "Why not?"

Flicking something down into the deep abyss of the Hole, she quickly blurted, "Because of the lab animals! If we were really efficient, we wouldn't have to kill them all off after a certain period of time! All of them are killed no matter what tests they'd been used for, even if it was just for food! Extermination shouldn't be needed…" She looked down the Hole, eyes burning with indignation. Richie leaned backwards on the chest-high rail.

"Willow—"

"Oh, don't _Willow _me." The subject wasn't taken up again. They continued to answer Ed's endless supply of questions, most of which they couldn't answer. Suddenly, they heard a dull roar. Looking down, Ed could just make out three pairs of lights. He squinted at them, unable to figure out what they were.

"What are those?" He pointed out to the specks of light that were steadily growing. Spencer was suddenly extremely excited.

"Those are the jets! I forgot they'd be drilling today! Oh my god, this is so awesome!" Ed looked to Richie, who explained, "The jets are machines that fly. They are incredibly fast and very stealthy. They could fly from Patron City all the way to the Xingese capital, Dao Ming in as little as an hour. That's nearly five hundred miles in sixty minutes."

This new tidbit of information just proved how deep the shaft was. It took the jets about thirty seconds to boom past the teenagers' floor (the 20th to be exact). The tunnel was close to four miles deep, and wide enough for the gigantic metal birds to get through without even coming close to each other.

In the split second that Ed got a glimpse of the jets, he saw a long, sleek vehicle with strange, v-shaped wings attached to a very thin fuselage housing a cockpit holding two people. It was incredibly sleek and was so quiet that if Ed hadn't been watching it, he might have never known that they'd just passed by.

That is, until the sonic boom caught up with them.

The sound blast rocked the entire floor, as well as the floor above it, and the one above that, and the one above _that…_ Ed had to kneel down and cover his ears for a second. When he finally dared to look up, he saw Spencer picking at his ear. Richie and Willow had already recovered and were standing with their heads palmed to one hand. Ed cautiously let go of his ears, and at first, his hearing didn't return. It took a few seconds, but he finally started to understand what Spencer was saying.

"…louder than I remembered it being. Man, that was a doozy. Sorry about not warning you. I assumed you already knew. Those jet-fighters could be near silent if we could get rid of the damned sonic boom. Geez, I'm going to have a headache fit for a wrecking crew." As if shaking water out of his ear, Spencer knocked the heel of one hand against his head.

Convinced that his hearing had been knocked back into his head, Spencer stated, "Seeing as you've finally witnessed the greatness of the Hole, we could probably move on to—"

Suddenly, alarms went off. Loud klaxons and ringing bells started off throughout the entire HQ. Richie and Willow looked about them like scared rabbits, while Spencer's gleeful face suddenly turned dead-serious. All Ed knew was that when the alarm bells started ringing, you'd better start hauling ass.

Spencer seemed to be in a likewise state of mind because he dragged the twins behind him and ran for all he was worth.

"HURRY UP, ELRIC! FOLLOW US OR GET EATEN!!"

The alchemist didn't need telling twice.

Up in the Command Room on Level 54, Hilary Ann Mustang was having a bit of a problem. The entire control room was in a lather with Program, their computer command center, spouting off statistics as background noise. Though Gram was incredibly intelligent, it was also as temperamental and emotional as any human. For some insane reason, Norman Fuery had the yen to install human emotion algorithms into the computer's very command column, so every once a month, it went as spastic and moody as a teenage girl on her period.

It's time of the month seemed to be _now. _

"Current stats on Gram," Hilary sighed blandly at her desk.

One young technician shook his head. "I guess it's just that time of the month, sir. She's going nuts, saying random Sectors and other things like trajectory and knowledge algorithms."

"Really," Mustang drawled, tapping a mechanical pencil against the keyboard of her computer inside of the dim room.

"Wait a second…Sensors are reacting to a party of Unindentified Persons, all human shaped and moving quickly."

"Moving at five miles per hour and counting, there are ten Unidentified Persons in Sector Ten! That's ten miles away…"

"Inside of Section Fifteen, Plot Three, there are five Unidentified Persons. They don't seem to be doing anything except for going in circles."

"Holy smokes, ten just blipped on the screen!" another excited techie shouted, pointing to his screen, "look, they're going nearly fifty miles an hour!"

This got Hilary's attention. She got up and walked over to the main screen in the middle of the control room, a giant crystal lay out that shimmered as new images flitted across. Around her at their consoles, technicians typed and yelled out exclamations. Tapping it, she asked Program, "Gram, could you run a systems scan and see if you can find anything for this anomaly?"

"I might. What's the magic word?"

"Now."

The computer seemed to sigh. In fact, many of the technicians in the room would swear on their grandmammy's good china that Program actually let out an irritated exhalation.

"As you wish…my algorithms have found several algorithms. One such is that these are Gathering algorithms for the Han-See people." Hilary lifted one eyebrow.

"Probability?"

"Seven point one percent chance." _ I knew that already. Even the Han-See camels can't run faster than forty miles an hour._

"Any other predictions?" Program seemed to wait a moment. All of the techs in the room stopped what they were doing.

"No further items in my algorithm scale match this anomaly." All of the techies sighed out, wondering if this were a glitch on the screen. Maybe it was just the Han-See, Gathering early…

Suddenly, a techie screamed out as he threw off his headset. He was a radio tech that specialized in the sounds that went on in the entire stronghold. Another radio tech also ripped off his headphones. Three more techs did the same. Everyone looked at them in surprise.

One computer technician who wasn't focused on the strange behavior of their radio heads noticed something on his partner's screen. Glancing at it for a moment, he started tapping away at her screen.

"Hey, what're you…Oh my god!" she screeched as she realized what her neighbor had pulled up.

Everywhere, techs were looking at their screens, a realization of dread settling over them.

"Intruders in Level 2!"

"Five in Section 3, moving to Entrance X!"

"We have ten already in Level 1!"

Hilary looked around in amazement, before shouting over the techs. "PROGRAM!"

"Yes, Hilary. I do have a new prediction." Hilary looked at the screen, reading the bold, three foot high letters with fascinated horror. Shouting to all in the room, as well as into the nearest intercom, she announced needlessly, "EVERYONE, EVACUATION MANUEVERS! THIS IS A CODE THREE! WE HAVE AN INVASION!


	3. Nirvana

Nirvana

Ed ran after the three teenagers, careful not to trip over anything. They were barreling down the hall with a vast amount of people flooding in with them. As he followed, Ed tried to memorize where he was going and what it looked like. He didn't doubt Spencer's comment about being lost for two days.

At last, they reached what Ed thought was their destination. They appeared to be a bunch of strange, organic shaped pods leaning against a wall. The teenagers were directing the traffic flow as best as they could over the sound of klaxon bells and Gram's voice giving instructions. Screens on the walls around the pods were giving a demonstration of their use, which Ed found quite helpful as to what they were.

It showed a person shaped icon getting into the pod, strapping itself in, then waiting for other person shaped icons to fill in the rest of the pod seats before finally lowering the glass shield over them. After that, the pod was cross-sectioned to see that it would shoot down a shaft along the giant central vent.

Already people were piling into the pods. Under the eerie orange lights, the pods shined malevolently as if they were going to swallow these passengers and land them somewhere worse off than where they were. The pods were strange, with one seat facing outwards in a forward direction, another facing the direction to the right, and the other facing to the left. There were six seats in all, and they had nearly thirty people.

Ed hustled his way to the three teens up at the front who were trying to instill some order.

"Yes, please climb into the pod, strap yourselves in…when it comes to a complete stop, you will be on the Subterra levels, now if you please…!It's perfectly safe, yes…Go on, go on, there's nothing to be afraid of…!" Richie shouted over the noise, ushering people into the pods. Ed yanked on Richie's hand, leaving the other two to take the load.

"What's going on?! Why are there alarm bells ringing over the entire place?!" he yelled. Richie shook his head, and for a moment Ed thought he couldn't hear him.

"You don't want to know! All you need to learn is, when these alarms go off, it means that we need to take the pods to the Subterra level! Down there they can seal us off from whatever's inside of the headquarters! Trust me on that!" Richie answered, helping people as he went.

Deciding that there wasn't much he could do to get any more information, he helped a small number of people into the remaining pods. There was only one left for the four of them.

Just as Spencer was about to jump into it, there was a loud and clear voice that rang into the air over the alarm bells.

"DON'T LEAVE ME!!!!" Down the hall, a girl with swinging purple hair and a tall boy with dark skin ran recklessly down the corridor. Ed was wondering why they were running so fast…until he saw the living nightmare that was following them.

If you remember, the government had secretly sanctioned the use of an immortal army created from souls and their containers. Those ones had been uncontrollable and deadly. Of course, they had also been stupid, rushing into fights and getting at anything that so much as moved.

Now, meet Immortal Soldier version 2.0.

The things that were following the girl and the boy were nearly six feet tall. They had the same pale, corpse-ish look to them. Mostly, they looked very nearly like they had in 1915. However, these had clothes and their faces were _human. _Before, the Immortal Soldier had only one eye and a mouth full of teeth to adorn its head. The newer version had both eyes, a nose, ears, and a mouth, still full of teeth. Some of them even had _hair. _

However, there was something decidedly inhuman about them. They were too fast and too jerky to be human. Their movements were vicious and full of anticipation. How did something human have a malicious grin that stretched from one side of the face to the other? They were even intelligent, moving in formation without breaking stride.

Ed had his answer to why the alarm bells were ringing. Spencer's comment about 'being eaten' suddenly made a lot of sense.

The girl with the purple hair finally reached the pods with her dark skinned friend. The latter pulled out what looked like a very high-tech gun and aimed it at the floor.

"Don't look," he commanded before pulling the trigger. Ed, a second too late, covered his face as a deafening blast and a blinding light filled the corridor. Ed, half-blinded and deaf as a post, had to wait two minutes before his hearing reached some semblance of normalcy. This was the second time that day that he'd had his very hearing knocked out of his head.

"…my last flash-bang," the dark-skinned kid was saying. He hefted his gun and stuck it on his belt loop.

"Flash-bang is right," Ed mumbled as they all piled into the pods. Richie and Willow were in the same seat compartment as well as the dark-skinned kid and the girl with the purple hair. Ed squeezed in with Spencer, wondering how long they had before those soldiers came for them. Richie fumbled with the eject button.

"Ready…set--" Willow, not one for preamble, shouted, "JUST PRESS THE DAMNED BUTTON!"

The entire pod shot down like a cork through a vacuumed tube. Ed was positive his stomach and his heart were occupying the same space. Everything passed by at a sight-killing blur. All Ed was sure he could make out were the lights from the Hole. Having finally gotten used to his stomach sharing his heart's current position, Ed relaxed a bit and wondered how long it would take for them to get to the very bottom level of the headquarters, in Subterra.

What is worse than going so fast, your eyes pop out of your head? Well, stopping. The pod came to an almighty abrupt halt. All the passengers managed to gain a lump on their heads from crashing into the windshield of the pods. Ed, unfortunate as he was, gained a robin's egg on his already existing goose egg. When the groans had subsided and the complaints dribbled to nothing, someone finally asked the dreaded question. "What happened?"

Willow, the expert on all things mechanical, stated, "I think it was the runner on the pod. It may have got stuck on something out there on the shaft-liner. Or maybe we've just stopped because of electricity cut off."

"Willow, that doesn't make sense. There's still electricity out there, and there's nothing to be stuck on. The shaft-liner's too smooth to have something stuck to it," Richie sighed. Looking out his windshield, he said ominously, "I think it was some_one _who stopped us, not some_thing._"

Ed curiously asked, "Isn't there some sort of manual switch to get us going again?" Richie and Willow thought for a moment before looking at each other and saying in unison, "Yes, there is."

"There's a lever on the outside—

"—for when the runners, the wheels of this pod, gets jammed—

"—And this pod's wheels can be jammed from a manual console."

"There a good possibility _they _stopped us--"

"—And are planning on eating us."

Looking out the windshield Ed could just see the red handle of the emergency lever. He unbuckled his seat belt and felt along the edges of the windshield for some sort of fastener. He finally lifted it open, Spencer saying, "That's not a good idea…"

"What? And you'd rather be eaten?" Ed asked. He didn't wait for an answer. Leaning out while holding on to his seat belt strap, he came face to face with the Hole. From the perspective of an open air pod while hanging from a thin strip of fabric, the Hole looked deeper.

A _lot _deeper.

Edward took a deep breath before swinging out. The lever was a scant two feet away on the side of the pod. If he could just reach it…

As he reached for it, something gripped his arm. Ed instinctively swung back, screaming. The thing that had latched on to his arm swung with him and smashed into the pod's windshield. Spencer gave it a kick for good measure before sending the artificial soldier down to the bottom of the Hole.

Ed looked out again, chancing his neck as he craned to see around their pod. A group of artificial soldiers was scaling the Hole at an astonishing speed. It wouldn't be long before they reached their pod.

Frantically, Ed reached out and grasped the lever, just barely.

"Hurry Ed!"

"They're getting closer…"

"Do something!"

The teenagers shouted words of complaint and encouragement. Ed's fingers reached for the level, fingertips just brushing the small ball on top of the long lever. _Damn it, why couldn't they have built this thing for normal people instead of freakin' Amazons!? _The soldiers looked like they were ready to devour anything and all in their way. This was good incentive for Ed to _hurry up. _

Just when all of them were ready to throw open the hatches and take chances with splatting at the bottom of the Hole, a high, keening noise could be heard that stopped everyone in their tracks, soldiers included.

The grind of metal skates sparked against the lining of the Hole. Light bounced off of a gleaming, futuristic motor-cycle helmet. A lithe body flew down the Hole with astonishing agility, kicking up sparks with its skates. On its way down, it kicked soldiers into oblivion with frightening accuracy.

"Is that…?" Richie wondered out loud. Spencer answered with a nod.

"Yep. Nirvana." Ed, who'd finally reached the lever pulled hard…and nothing happened. The lever was stuck.

"Hey, we've got a problem!" Ed shouted. "The stupid thing's jammed!" Richie shot a murderous glare at Willow.

"You didn't oil _all _of the pod levers, did you?" Richie seethed. Willow shrugged with a helpless look on her face. Her blonde hair spiked up in apprehension as the soldiers behind them picked up the pace. She could see them from the reflection of the windshield.

"EDWARD, LOOK OUT!"

The pod rocked forward as another soldier landed on top of it. Soon, it was stormed by dozens of soldiers all looking for a tasty morsel. Ed was quickly pulled back inside of the pod by the back of his jacket. The windshield slammed shut, just in time to give an artificial soldier a mouthful of glass. It shattered, and blood sprayed across the bottom of the pod as the soldier chucked its chin on the bottom of the jagged edge made of glass.

Ed took his cue and crawled through the barely-big-enough hole to the top of the pod. Spencer yelled after him, but didn't follow. Instead, he pulled out his derringers and shot what he could and hid from what he couldn't. The rest of the pod members were likewise battling their respective soldiers with whatever was at hand.

The remaining soldiers clung to the sides of the Hole. Willow had taught them a lesson or two with the butt of her screwdriver. Richie joined in with his wrench, something that made Ed reminiscent of several phantom bruises on his head. Spencer had remained stock still, his derringers at the ready. The other two passengers were readying themselves with whatever they had on them.

The mysterious skater had finally slid past Ed, a whirl of white hair, black matte, and speed. He watched cautiously as it managed to take down a soldier, but two more replaced them. Even this person couldn't take them all on by itself. They were becoming overwhelmed.

Ed was pulled out of watching the person's deadly acrobatic performance by a pair of soldiers. He easily chopped through their arms and legs, leaving them little more than wiggling torsos. Disgusted, he kicked them down into the Hole. He looked down to see them screaming, a few of their fellows following them. He fought several more of them, his fighting accented with the sounds of gunshots and the whack of a wrench.

Another one attacked Ed from behind. Ed screamed as a hand ripped through his side. Dropping to his knees, Ed whirled around to cut through the soldier's knees. It blocked the sword with one bloodied hand and leaned forward, causing Ed to back up to the slick, convex edge of the pod. It grinned with an evil gleam in its eyes and cooed mockingly, "Yoooouu wiiiill noot liiiiiive…." Ed's eyes widened as he heard it speak coherent words. The last batch had only been able to say what its soul had originally been thinking, things that didn't make sense. This new species was a lot smarter than Ed had anticipated if they could speak for themselves.

Suddenly, a whirl of black and white rushed upwards, knocking the soldier into the air before giving it a whirling kick down the Hole. Ed watched it all with a sort of amazed fascination, holding his injured side. The other soldiers were seemingly missing. The Hole was eerily quiet.

The black clad skater stopped on top of the pod, giving it a slight jolt. The person behind the helmet was breathing hard, their white hair spiked with sweat and sickly looking in the pale, dead light of the Hole. The person looked up and sighed.

"I think it's time you guys got going. There's another batch coming," the person said, their voice undecipherable of gender. Ed nodded, leaning down to try and unjam the lever below. The helmeted person looked down to Ed and suddenly shouted, "Don't just pull--!" Suddenly, the handle came free and the pod shot down, leaving Edward in its wake.

It was several minutes before Ed realized he was free falling. He spread out his arms, coat billowing out behind him like the wings of a large bird. Realizing he would die if he didn't do something soon, he struggled to clap his hands together. When he'd finally done it, he pressed his hands to his flapping coat, closing his eyes as alchemical lights flashed. It billowed out behind him, and he was rudely yanked up into the air instead of falling through it. He'd transmuted his coat into a parachute.

Just ahead of him, the mysterious person that the travelers in the pod had called 'Nirvana' was racing up the Hole. It struck Edward as weird that they'd be able to go _up _the Hole instead of down. How the hell did they do that?

"Idiot!" the person yelled as they slammed into Ed, placing a firm arm around Ed's waist. The wind was knocked out of Ed as Nirvana dragged the alchemist back up to the starting point of the pods. Ed didn't retaliate. He was too tired to even give a good rebuke other than to glare.

* * *

A band of tough, scarred warriors clad in fiber-beaded armor marched down to the IsoCell chambers. All members who'd been locked in by the code that Program had been ordered to give out to all chambers were set free and ran with the soldiers to the emergency pods. Other soldiers scouted the area looking for their straggling artificial counterparts. The sound of heavy gunfire could be heard bouncing up and down the corridors.

Hilary Mustang stood with a commanding air in front of her entourage. Despite the fact she was shorter than both her subordinates, she exuded a feeling that made her seem much bigger. The two gulped as they gave her the bad news.

"Sir…uh, Elric is not in his chamber. He escaped somehow. We don't know where he is," one of them said awkwardly. Hilary didn't move. The white corridor she was in seemed to shrink as she icily asked Program, "Gram, I want to see who was inside of these IsoCells as well as visitors." Automatically, screen appeared out of one of the white walls via fiber-optics implants. It showed data of the past twenty-four hours. Hilary scanned it and her eyes widened as she read the last data entry.

Exited:12:09:05 Spencer March IsoCell 14

Exited:12:09:20 Edward Elric Isocell 14

Exited:12: 12:05 Richard M. Rockbell IsoCell 14

Exited:12: 12:01 Willow L. Rockbell IsoCell 14

"Damn," Hilary breathed angrily. The Terrible Trio had come and spirited away their alchemist to God knows where. Knowing them, they were probably all down in the Subterra level chattering away with each other, trying to find more ways to make Hilary's life more unbearable than it already was. She loved the kids, but those three drove her up the wall.

"Com the Subterra level via intercommunications wiring. I want them to find Mr. Elric and to keep an eye on him," Hilary ordered as she requested video from the IsoCell number 14. It showed the Tormenting Threesome deliberating between themselves before Elric…what was this? He opened the door by himself? How was that? Hilary hadn't expected him to figure out the hand movement pattern so quickly. They hadn't been kidding when they had said the kid was a genius. Or maybe he was just really lucky…

"Sir, we have a problem," the other subordinate said with an audible gulp. Hilary turned her coal black gaze on him like a search light.

"Well?"

"The pod they were in came back damaged. The windshield was blown out, and the emergency manual jam lever was pulled out all the way. Elric…um, he was no where to be found. From witness reports, he was outside of the pod when he pulled the lever," the subordinate stated nervously. He didn't add the words that he should've said. _It's very likely he's dead, sir. _He might as well have signed his own death warrant if he'd done that. Or at the very least, he'd be scrubbing the septic tanks for weeks.

Hilary remained stationary. She didn't blow up. She didn't go into a flying rage. She didn't suddenly burst into flame and curse every soul in the corridor to the seventh circle of Hell. What she did was worse. Much. Worse.

"Find Elric's body."

* * *

Nirvana dragged Ed through the portal of the pod station. He was in less-than-perfect shape, and she had nothing on her that could get him to heal faster. Besides, organic transmutation was usually messy. He wasn't so bad that he was completely useless though. That was something to be thankful for. She took off her helmet and placed it under one arm. On her other, Ed was leaning against her. Adrenaline had kept him holding on, but now there wasn't much that kept him going.

"Hey…could you put me down here? This hurts," Ed mumbled wearily. Nirvana set him down on a bench. He lay down on it and took a shuddering breath. His jacket was in tatters and his hair was a mess. He was covered with blood, some of it his own, and some of it not. All in all, Nirvana couldn't really tell where his wounds began and the artificial soldier's blood ended.

"How did you…you know. Go up the tunnel instead of down? And how do you skate the tunnel?" Ed asked, ever curious even as he was injured. Nirvana was quiet…but she answered, "I use alphysics. It's like alchemy, except I use physics instead. Now shut up and don't ask any more questions, pipsqueak. I don't feel like talking." Ed blew up then and there.

"WHO'RE YOU CALLING SO SMALL, HE HANG-GLIDES USING ORIGAMI?!"

Nirvana blinked at him and said, "Geez, you're a piece of work. And if you yell any more, we might meet some more of those friends of yours. I think they might have taken a liking to you." She looked down to Ed's waist, where blood was starting to leak. Frowning, she ordered, "Take off your jacket. That thing's gonna get infected if you don't clean it." Ed looked down and sighed, but he winced as he did so. Note to self: Don't sigh. Or move. Or breathe.

Ed peeled off the jacket with some help on Nirvana's part. The shirt was a bit harder. Ed hissed and spit as they tried to skin it off. It grated against the jagged edges of the wound, and the cotton fibers stuck to the blood. At last, the wretched thing came off, and Ed was exposed to the cold wind blowing through the pod station.

As Nirvana took a close look at Ed's wound, he studied her fully. He'd never gotten to see what she looked like during the fight because of her helmet, but now he saw that her white hair was a lot like Gray's and Mustang's. Was she related to them? But her eyes were the wrong color. They were a greenish-blue, sort of like Gray's. Her face was all wrong, though. She had strong, angular features, and her eyes were the only thing the two people had in common. Her hair was too light, and her skin was too pale. Overall, she wasn't bad looking, but there was a cold aura about her that said 'back off.'

After taking a good look at his wound, Nirvana pulled out a flask of something. She sniffed it first before drawing a circle on it. It flashed blue and hissed as it turned into something else. The smell from it was mildly stinging and familiar. Ed shied away from it.

"Couldn't you have turned it into, I don't know, hydrogen peroxide instead?!" Ed asked nervously. He knew for a fact that alcohol burned righteously like a flame when administered to a wound. He hated using it.

"Alcohol _always _works better than hydrogen peroxide," Nirvana stated in an indignant voice. Ed scoffed, but nearly screamed when she suddenly dumped the contents of the flask over his wound.

"The hell! Warn me when you do that!" Ed shouted at her. He jerked away from the offending alcohol and gave Nirvana his 'twitching eye' sequence. Nirvana had a rock solid stare on her face, and without warning she pounced on him with a war cry.

"STAY STILL!"

"MAKE ME!"

"COME HERE, YOU LITTLE--!"

"WHO'RE YOU CALLING _LITTLE?_!?!?!"

By the time the Oasis soldiers found the two, they were squabbling like small children on the floor. The entire battalion had no idea what to do with the warring teenagers and settled for letting them tire out. In fact, several had made bets about who would tucker out first. Those who put their money on the girl with the white hair promptly ended up with a lighter wallet.

Breathing hard, Nirvana pocketed the flask and glared at Edward. He was panting as well, resting on the opposite side of the pod station. The soldiers were watching both of them the way spectators watched a Wimbledon game: from Ed to Nirvana, back to Ed, back to Nirvana…

The debtors were seriously hoping Nirvana would catch a second wind.

No such thing happened. Instead, Hilary Mustang marched up to the pod station. Three minutes, five seconds, and a tenth of a second earlier, she'd been notified that Elric was alive and Nirvana was with him. She'd immediately been escorted to the pod station on the twenty-something-th floor. The minute she stepped out into the orange light, all movement stopped.

Nirvana straightened up, white hair matted to the side of her face with blood where Ed had nailed her with his artificial hand. She was holding her bruised side with as much dignity as she could muster. The soldiers snapped to attention. Mustang ignored them and strode past. She passed Elric, giving nary a glance or a word his way. He watched as she stood in front of Nirvana with a hard look in her eyes. Ed couldn't help but notice that Nirvana and Mustang had a certain resemblance in one another. Were they related?

"You came back." It was a statement, nothing more. There was no emotion to it, no inflections or nuances. It was simply a fact. Nirvana didn't nod or shake her head. All she did was stare.

"Why did you come back?" Mustang asked imperiously, using her 'Commander' voice. Nirvana continued to stare defiantly to Mustang's face. Ed thought that this standoff looked surprisingly familiar, but he couldn't tell where he'd seen it before.

"I _said _why did you come back? Answer me, and that's an order, Energy," the Commander demanded. _Energy? _Ed wondered. Did they still have State Alchemists here? Was this girl named the Energy Alchemist? What sort of name was that?

Finally, Nirvana jerked out the words, "Heard stuff. Saw stuff. Thought I'd drop in." This seemed to be good enough for Hilary because after a beat she did an about-face and headed back to her entourage of soldiers. She spoke to a few of them audibly enough so Edward and Nirvana could hear.

"I want a few of you to escort Elric the Infirmary, then to my office. Radio the Commie room and tell them to get Kojak online. I want him to come and pick up Nirvana. She's his jurisdiction."

Nirvana suddenly exploded into a rage.

Furiously, she shouted, pointing an accusing finger, "Hey, I never said I was staying here! I'm blowing this lightstick stand the moment I get the chance. And you _know _you can't stop me! I refuse to be held here! Under Chapter 4, sub-section 309, paragraph--" Her words were cut short as a small sedative slug lodged itself to the nape of her neck, and then disappear in a small glow of blue. Nirvana's eyes started to go unfocused and she wobbled on her feet. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and before she could hit the ground, a brawny soldier had scooped her up. She was down and out cold.

Ed watched the transaction with amazement. Hilary had barely batted an eyelash. The rest of the soldiers seemed just as unaffected. As he was escorted to Mustang's office with the Commander in the lead, he hissed, "What was that for?" It brought up disturbing thoughts about if he himself wanted to leave. Would they shoot him on sight, too? Those sedatives had left a funny taste in his mouth like a cross between peanut butter and dirt. Not the most pleasant taste in the world, and not something he wanted to revisit.

"Nirvana is under scrutiny for desertion as well as her activities and research out in the desert. We don't know where her allegiance lies for now, and that makes her a possible threat. I would have to be a fool to let the Energy Alchemist out of my sight for too long," Mustang said as she stepped into a glass elevator on the side of the Hole. It gave Ed a bad feeling to be seeing the colossal shaft so soon, but followed Mustang regardless.

As they rode up to Mustang's office, Ed realized why Nirvana and Mustang's standoff had looked so familiar. The face-off had looked exactly like the many disagreements Edward had had with the (now late) Colonel, Roy Mustang.

At least their standoffs hadn't ended in one of them being incapacitated.

…Most of the time.


	4. Escape

A/N: Hello, it's the author's note here to annoy the hell out of you. I apologize for my absence. As you fellow writers (or readers) know, Writer's Maze/PB&J/Block/Sphere is an awful affliction. I have finally conquered it, and here is the fruits of my labor!

However, I didn't just decide to rejoice about my new triumph over my own brain. Just so you know, my story **Forevers and Evers **is very close to going into the toilet. Feedback is nearly ESSSENTIAL to the survival of that story. If anyone would like to send me a message or a review, that'd be nice. It's not mandatory, but one review could make all the difference. Some other stories are also pending on reviews and such.

And I feel like a choco-fudge-nut-peanut butter-blueberry-cookie cake right now.

And yes, I _am _a fat kid.

* * *

Escape

Mustang walked alongside one of Oasis's few alchemists. He was a geeky man with a tuft of black hair on his head, a weak chin, and a stutter. He wore glasses and was constantly pushing them up his nose. When he was nervous, he fidgeted, and as of right then, Commander Mustang was making him _very _nervous.

"And you are sure that she can't get out? At all? The room is completely made of concrete and there's a code-pad on each door?" Mustang asked sternly. The alchemist nearly dropped the Techbook in his hands. He nodded vigorously, not trusting his mouth to do the job. Mustang opened a large steel hatch and the both of them went through, passing two burly soldiers who snapped their guns into a salute position. The alchemist flinched as they passed by. The cold fluorescent lighting was eerie. Mustang made the place just that much eerier.

At last, they reached their destination, a sliding glass door with an almost opaque finish to it. Forms were rushing back and forth behind it. Mustang slid her thumb over the keypad as well as typed in the code and did the hand signature to open the door.

The door opened into a large observation room that overlooked a large, concrete room that was devoid of any adornment or furniture. The windows looking into the room were nearly seven feet tall, stretching from floor to ceiling and giving a wide view of the concrete room. Mustang took a parade position and looked down into the gaping area.

"How does this work?" Mustang asked. The alchemist finally stuttered after several failed attempts, "I-I-it's full of a h-h-heavy a-atmosphere. I-I-it will bog-g her d-d-down. It t-t-takes more to b-breath in a h-h-heavy atmos-s-sphere than a r-regular one." He looked down at his fingers and started to fiddle with them nervously. Mustang nodded and asked, "And the room's completely sealed?" The alchemist nodded.

Suddenly, Kojak materialized beside Mustang, making the alchemist jump.

"Hello there, Ms. Mustang," Kojak said amiably. Mustang only looked up at him and nodded. She pointed to the alchemist and motioned for him to leave with one pointed finger. The nervous alchemist scuttled out of the observation deck at a frightened pace. Kojak watched him with an amused look on his face.

"And you have done it again, ma'am. It never fails me to see a man run from you like a cockroach from a boot," Kojak said in an affable tone, looking down into the room where men in white radioactive suits were leading a young woman with her hands bound through an airlock. She looked haggard and worn, her movements that of a stalking predator.

"How's Elric doing?" Kojak asked seriously as the pale-skinned Nirvana was freed of her bonds. The men quickly fled through the airlock. Mustang flicked her eyes up to Kojak and back to Nirvana.

"Doing well. He's adjusting," Mustang told him tersely. Kojak nodded satisfactorily and asked, "And what did he say to your proposition?" Mustang hesitated.

"He…he said he'd think about it. Obviously he's sort of rattled by all of this. I don't expect him to make a decision right now. He's done pretty good for his situation; then again, look at who he is and at his track record." Kojak smiled and looked at Mustang.

"Exactly how long do you think this little rinky-dink hole is going to keep Nirvana from getting out?" Kojak asked with his best 'poor-dear-she-has-no-idea-what-she's-getting-into' expression. Mustang turned her head to him and said, "Long enough for me to get in a word or two to the stubborn blockhead." Kojak only smiled and answered, "I say she gets out so fast you'll miss her leave."

Mustang scoffed. "The room is filled with heavy air. The entire thing's made of concrete. There are locks on the doors and each is made of titanium-molybdenum alloy. She's not going anywhere fast." Kojak shrugged and pointed through the window into the room.

Now, you must understand that from the view of all of these windows, there was nowhere to hide. Everything was out in the open, and even the area beneath the windows was not safe from scrutiny. The room was flooded with bright lights in all directions, casting no shadows. Nothing could keep out of sight or escape without notice while you were watching. If a cockroach were inside, you would've been able to see it even if you wore granny glasses.

Nirvana had somehow disappeared. She was nowhere inside of the room. The only thing left was a small note left on the floor where she had stood. Mustang pressed her face to the glass and looked around. She turned to Kojak, her eyes wide. He only smiled sheepishly at her and shrugged. Nirvana had, once again, done the impossible.

"Don't look at me. I was with you the whole time," he said, his alibi solid as stone. Mustang could only gape out the window into the empty concrete room that had taken _months _to build. Nearly fifty high-security offenders had been stuffed into this cell, and none of them had even made a single attempt at breaking out. A single fifteen year old girl had managed to escape in a matter of seconds.

Kojak sighed and clapped Mustang on the shoulder as she banged her head into the glass.

"It's okay. I've tried to. Sometimes even the box on the stick with the candy bar underneath doesn't cut it," Kojak said reassuringly in his joking tone. It did nothing to relieve Mustang of her current feeling of uselessness. Usually, the uselessness was reserved for monsoon days and busted water lines. This was an exception.

A few minutes too late, the alarms went off. Soldiers rushed around trying to find out what happened and what their orders were to be. One technician ran up to Mustang and said, "Commander, we have a problem. Nirvana--" The bloody, murderous glare that Mustang gave the soldier shut his mouth tighter than a spoonful of glue.

"I. Know."

"I, uh, have the note here if you want to read it…" Mustang snatched the note from the soldier and skimmed over it. She glared at it and chucked straight into the nearest trash receptacle she could find.

"Um, what do you want us to do?" Mustang sighed and ordered, "Put a tracer on her if you can, and try to capture her. I don't know, just do something!" The soldier left in a dust cloud. Growling, Mustang turned to Kojak who hadn't changed expression or posture since Nirvana's prompt break-out. He looked at her innocently and asked, "What?" Mustang pointed a finger at him and choked out, "I _am _going to find out how you managed to get the girl to listen to you." She stomped off in a huff, leaving Kojak to smile in a sly way.

While Mustang turned to leave Kojak dug into the trash can for the note. He smiled a small smile. It read:

"So long, Bitch Queen!-- Nirvana"

* * *

Edward sat in the operating chair with a touch of nervous anticipation. They'd already fixed his side with some sort of spray, and now they were going to take a look at his automail. He was honestly sort of worried because he'd never had anyone other than Granny and Winry take a look at it before. Of course, the people looking at his automail were Rockbells anyways, but it was still unsettling.

To get his mind off of it, he looked around the operation room. It was full of monitors, doors, and instrument panels and cabinets. There were several strange apparatuses hanging from the ceiling, as well as strange modules in the floor. Everything was either a bright puke green color, or clean white. Edward had always wondered why hospitals had the worst color choices ever. Or why everything was white. And what was with the scrubs with the ducks on them?! He was sixteen, for Pete's sake!

Suddenly, the Rockbell twins came in. Luckily, neither of them were wearing ducky scrubs, though one was indeed carrying a rather ominous looking hypodermic gun in one hand. Ed looked at them warily as they busied around the room retrieving the necessary tools. Some of them Ed was curious to know the function of. Some of them Ed hoped he'd never have a reason to find out. Finally, the twins were situated, one of them at Ed's left and the other on his right.

Both Richie and Willow began working in tandem.

"Pneumatic wrench."

"Check." Ed watched a wrench with a complicated panel fly over his head and into Willow's hand.

"Touch sensory lining."

"Check." A strange roll of what looked like plastic fitted with small beads followed the wrench's previous trajectory into Willow's hand. She set that down on her side, then asked, "Alphysical high-energy pulse emitter." Richie looked up at her with a raised eyebrow and an annoyed glare. Willow shrugged. Despite the fact her face was covered by a surgical mask, you could still tell that there was a fake veneer of innocence plastered on her face.

"You _know _we can't use that without Nirvana around," Richie emphasized. Willow sighed dramatically and groaned, "I know. It's not fair. I _love _using that thing." Ed watched the exchange without saying anything. They tossed several other odd, potentially dangerous items over his head to one another before finally agreeing that they were settled.

"Here, extend your arm for us," Richie ordered, tapping on Ed's metal shoulder. Ed extended his right arm. Richie took the gun and loaded it with a small green, nearly transparent square piece of what looked like glass. Richie aimed it just above the automail port and fired. A small green square identical to the one in the gun attached itself to his arm before glowing electric green, then disappearing into Ed's skin. Immediately, his arm went limp on the table, and he couldn't feel anything from his right shoulder on down to his waist. Realizing Ed was anesthetized, Willow started digging through the automail. Willow immediately whistled low. She rapped on the armor plating with her knuckles before bending down to peer at it.

"Wow, is this a gallium-steel combination?" Ed looked perplexed and answered hesitantly, "Uh…no?"

"Then it's silicon-magnesium-carbon fusion?" Again, completely in the dark, "Eh…no."

"Maybe it's--" Richie held up a hand and stated, "_Okay, _Willow. I don't think he knows."

"Actually, I do," Ed said, suddenly remembering something Winry had said about what she'd done with his automail when he had gone to Briggs. He also had to know because his automail was one of his prime weapons in hand-to-hand combat. "Winry said that she'd switched the steel-to-chromium ratio to make it lighter, though it'd loose strength. It has a basic steel base, but it also has a chromium-lithium alloy in there somewhere as well." Richie and Willow looked at each other with an undecipherable gaze.

Ed was slightly worried now. What if they had, like, twin telepathy? And they were discussing things without him knowing? Berating himself for being stupid, Ed tried to relax a little bit more. That was kind of hard, though, because his side itched where they'd sprayed the…whatever it was… and he felt like some strange sort of specimen laid out underneath the bright overhead LED light.

"Well, there's no doubt about it. This thing is an antique," Richie finally announced. Willow nodded in agreement.

"We haven't used a steel-chromium base for a long time. Usually it's something like a steel-vanadium compound, but I guess you couldn't just find vanadium like you can here," Willow mused as she opened up the face plate gently.

The twins talked to Ed as they worked. Mostly it was just chatter to get Ed's mind off of the fact that a couple of teenagers (that _weren't _Winry) were in his automail. Every now and then, one of them would comment on how old the model of Ed's automail was, and he'd groan in response.

"It's not that old," he drawled out for the umpteenth time. Willow indignantly assured him, "Yeah, it is! You even use a little gear mmfmfmmfmfmfff!!" Richie placed a hand over his twin's mouth. Sometimes she just didn't know when to shut up.

"Leave it alone. We'll look at it later. We can always get a line on it at the archives," Richie sighed. Willow, duly chastised though not enough for her to stop her from sticking her tongue out at Ed, went back to work cleaning out the gears and fixing broken components.

"Have you considered Mustang's proposal?" Richie asked seriously. "Size 1 ½ wrench please."

Edward looked confused at the last statement until a tiny wrench was tossed over him. He sighed and muttered, "Yeah. What about it?" Richie was quiet for a moment, and was about to answer. However, as she was wont to do, Willow stole his thunder.

"Is it a yes or no? Are you a civilian now, or are you one of us Oasis soldiers?" she asked brusquely. Ed deliberated for a moment, thinking about all of the things Mustang had said. It wouldn't be an easy choice. Staying out of the fight meant that he'd be last learning everything that happened, and there was a less likely chance that he'd get home any time within the next five years. However, in being a soldier, he'd have to fight on the front lines as well as teach the other alchemists. Edward had never been much of a teacher, and he didn't think a crash course in learning how to get other people to learn was going to do the trick.

It was a hard choice. Ed could either relax here in the 22nd century while being completely in the dark, or he could risk his life again like he had been doing for the past four years. Most people would probably mull over this decision, action or inaction, for days before making a decision. However, Ed was not 'most people.'

"I don't fancy sitting on my ass doing nothing. I can't handle vacation. Civilian life would kill me." Ed never did understand the concept of quitting while you were ahead. He'd been doing this for four years. What more was another four? As he'd heard kids say (in this day and age), freedom was _totally _overrated.

* * *

"And you are _entirely _sure about this?" Mustang asked with a slight touch of incredulity. Elric didn't leave things sitting for long.

Sitting across from the Commander of the Oasis base, Ed nodded. Mustang rubbed the side of her face as she thought about his choice.

"You are--"

"Yes. I'm _entirely _sure," Ed answered, mimicking her. Mustang lifted one blond eyebrow. She sighed.

"Very well. I guess I can't really stop it anyways. Que sera, sera. What will be, will be," Mustang decided, grabbing a couple of papers off of her desk as well as tapping the touch-screen surface. Suddenly, another screen lit up behind her on a white wall. Amazingly it showed Edward's picture on an old, yellowed document with barely legible writing. Despite its old age it still bore the Amestrian insignia, a lion with a pentagram encircling it.

"Though it's nearly 200 years old, we can always reinstate you as a State Alchemist, though you'll be in it for Oasis, not the Amestrian military. We'll have to weasel our way out of the legal red tape, but I'm sure we can figure something out. In the meantime, you'll probably be rooming with…Kojak," Mustang said after a minute's deliberation. Old memories resurfaced as Mustang though about another young, blond alchemist who had ended up in her office saying the same words and with the same steadfastness. She guessed she'd picked Kojak for the matter that he was good with headstrong, wily, nonconforming teenagers. She didn't know how the large black man did it, but he just had that special aura about him that made people listen. It was different than her own, however, in a more gentle, subtle way.

On another white wall of Mustang's office, another screen appeared. Edward let out a choked off scream. He still wasn't used to people appearing out of the walls seemingly from nowhere. This screen featured Georgia, the woman who had been with Kojak when Ed had been found. Her hair was meticulously pulled back into a tight, poignant looking bun, and her face was serious as it ever was. Edward still hadn't forgotten their little shooting incident…

"Commander, I may have to speak to you…alone," she said with added emphasis on the last word of the sentence. She gave a pointed stare at Elric. Edward rolled his eyes and got up.

"Like I want to hear you guys complain about your PMS anyways," he grumbled as he left. He narrowly escaped injury via stapler as he ran out the door. Hilary was definitely a little more feisty than Roy was. When she was sure that Edward was gone (and that he wasn't listening at the door. Nirvana had done that more than once) Hilary Mustang asked, "As you were saying before we were rudely insulted?" Georgia gave a short nod and started to her report over the damage caused by the artificial soldiers.

"Ma'am, we're missing many key components, and a lot of our steel crystal and medical supplies have been depleted. It'll takes weeks-- months even-- to get these items back unless we buy them," Georgia wrapped up. Mustang narrowed her eyes at the descendant of Maria Ross. 'Buying' could only mean one thing.

"You're saying we need to infiltrate Patron City to get access to the black market and stock back up on supplies that were destroyed?" Mustang guessed. Georgia looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable. She nodded.

"We'll only have enough steel component nano-facturers to create and recycle two tons of steel-germanium crystal girders every two weeks. Our infrastructure won't be able to hold up for that long without the necessary support systems," Georgia announced solemnly.

Though the Oasis bunker was perfectly safe, it relied heavily on the switching-out of certain girders for newer ones that hadn't bent quite as much. Certain spots in the base had to be switched out every couple of years to keep from caving in. The shifting sands made this a difficult process when using the same girders over and over. Steel-germanium alloys in a crystalline arrangement seemed to work best under these conditions, as it was _just _flexible enough to bend and compress, but not break, under heavy loads. Constant repair was being done in the civilian level of the bunker as well, seeing as they needed the steel to create tools and other things.

"How long can we go before our infrastructure is in the red zone?" Hilary asked. Georgia quickly replied, "two weeks, perhaps three if we're really stretching it. Eh, well, we did switch out girders 5G-19G, so make that four weeks." Hilary nodded thoughtfully. They were low on supplies, their girders were going to hold out for possibly another couple of weeks, and there was a chance that they'd have to put the alchemist's research on hold to fix all of the bunker's infrastructure and such.

"All right. I'll put together a team. I already have a few people in mind."


	5. Mission

A/N: Hello, again. Here give you your daily amount of nuisance! Well, just as a little info, this chapter was originally stuck to the last chapter at the hip. I'd had to surgically separate the thing to keep it from becoming a giant MONSTER of a chapter and scaring off you readers. However, it is now at a conceivable length of 3,000+ instead of the ghastly 5,000+ it used to be. It had, indeed, gone a pretty big diet.

Another thing, reviews! Review, review, review. Because, if you don't tell me what you like or don't like than I can't really tell if my story's actually any good or not, causing me to flush it down the toilet like the dead fish it'd become. Soooo, with that being said, here's the next chapter!

And I don't own FMA. If I did...scary things would happen. *cough* Apocalypse *cough* Now if you will excuse me, I have some liberals to make fun of.

* * *

For the next week and a half, Ed had to get used to his new surroundings. He had to get used to people popping seemingly out of nowhere (in what were called tridemigraphics), and the stupid cuff on his arm that kept chirping, "Please exit area. You are in a restricted area. Please exit area. You are in a restricted area…" He had to get used to the alchemists who were hardly even _alchemists _any more. He had to get used to the weird, vinyl-esque clothing. And, what he _really _needed to get used to was Willow. She reminded him so much of Winry (if in appearance more than personality; he was pretty sure Winry hadn't been quite _that _blunt) that he was caught off guard nearly every time he saw her. Not to mention he had those weird feelings around her, too…

Of course, getting Ed used to being in the future was akin to sticking a mouse inside of a space station full of incredibly high-tech, metal-junkie, slang-speaking, loud-music listening, weirdo rats. Plus,the mouse couldn't find the bathroom on his own, though thank _god_ the commode hadn't changed over the past two hundred years even if it did look a little funny. And, of course, there were all of the gadgets that he had to learn about.

"This button?" Ed asked, clicking the mouse on the computer.

"No, no, no! Not that one! Awww, look at that. You deleted your page. You'll have to do it all over again," Spencer sighed. Teaching Ed how to use a computer was worse than trying to get his drunk grandpa to walk in a straight line. He (Ed, not the grandpa) kept getting frustrated, and when Ed got frustrated he tended to delete things.

So far, Ed had trashed five computers because he transmuted them into unrecognizability. Mustang had had a little chat with him about that for nearly half an hour. When his butt was booted out the door, Ed went and trashed five more computers. _Deliberately. _

And, that night, Gram changed his shower temperature to 40 degrees Fahrenheit. Go figure.

"I'm _never _going to get the hang of this," Ed groaned, smashing his head into the keyboard, causing the screen to fill up with shjhjhjhjhjhjhjhjfdsgj plus a few more spaces and letters for good measure. Spencer winced and pulled the keyboard out from underneath his head to prevent further damage. Ed smacked into the metal table and yelped.

"What the hell was that for?!" Ed yelled . Spencer shrugged and admitted, "Gram told me to teach you how to use computers, and that includes computer etiquette. All of these computers are connected to Gram's mainframe, and she doesn't especially like it when one of them goes off-line. It's like…like you killed her _baby _or something. You know, tiny copies of Gram." Ed rolled his eyes and looked at Spencer with an exasperating look.

"She's a computer!"

"She's a computer with _emotional algorithms._" Ed looked mightily confused.

"And that's supposed to mean…"

"She's like a woman with a perpetual migraine and her bottle of Prozac just ran out." Ed was still confused. He didn't exactly know what Prozac was… but he figured it must be another 'wonder drug.' Seriously, it seemed they had a pill for every illness and ache you could ever had. They could even numb the pain caused by automail detachment! It was the best thing that had ever happened! He wouldn't be surprised if they hadn't made some sort of euphoria pill that made you perpetually happy.

Spencer looked back to the computer, then to Elric. His gaze flicked back and forth between the two before he cautiously placed the keyboard back in its original spot.

A loud squawk was emitted from Ed's cuff, and an icon of a letter going into a mailbox alerted Edward that he had a message waiting for him. He sighed with resignation. He could almost feel Mustang's annoyed words through the little greave-like communications device (which he learned was a 'commie').

"I'd answer that if I were you. The PMS Queen doesn't like being kept waiting. She might chop off your head through your Commie," Spencer chuckled. Edward rolled his eyes and fumbled with it. He was getting the hang of using the stupid thing. He finally found the right button through the right sequence using the right icons and the right guidance. Opening up the message he found a small memo marked 'City Team.' He looked around at everyone else in the library.

Spencer had respectfully left the vicinity to talk to someone, most likely Willow, on his commie. Edward had found that an unusual custom among the people of the Oasis was that whenever someone got a message or was talking to another person they walked away to another, less populated area. It might have its roots in living in such close quarters with other people.

Edward finally read the message that was written across the Commie's touch-interface screen. It was written in Mustang's own personalized font, a sharp and no-nonsense looking writing that usually struck fear into the hearts of soldiers and the poor bureaucrats in the civilian level of Oasis. To Ed, it only meant he was either in trouble, or that he was _going _to be.

This one, however, didn't have a hint of death via Post-it note due to a misfired alchemy project or wall ornament. It was more straightforward, and it was definitely shorter than the usual rants he got. It was basic. Meet her at her office. There'll be other people. Bring your brain with you.

Ten minutes later he was in Mustang's office along with Willow, Richie, Grayson Hemmer the historian (who'd been harassing him about every little skirmish despite the fact he was _sixteen _), Kojak, and Georgia. Mustang was seated at her white, pristine desk with her fingers steepled and eyes closed. Slowly, the coal black searchlights opened and scanned everyone in the room. They narrowed and stated, " Someone's missing--"

The door was flung open by one booted foot. It belonged to a young girl with purple hair and her dark-skinned companion. She waltzed breezily into the gigantic office and settled herself into a plush couch. Her unknown follower stood behind the couch with a protective hand on the back.

Mustang's eye twitched and she sighed. "All right, then. Thank you, Al, for finally gracing us with your presence. Why, exactly, didn't you get her here on time, Imal?" The dark-skinned teenager, probably of Ishballan heritage, blinked once before saying in clipped tones, "I couldn't very well walk in on her while she was still in the shower, could I? It would be incredibly rude, as well as inappropriate."

Aforementioned purple haired young woman, Al, stated, "Damn straight. Just because you're my brother doesn't exactly mean you can see me naked just yet, Imal Elric."

Ed did a double take. Al Elric? Imal Elric? They were siblings? What?! It seemed that Ed's brain was a little bit behind. He suspected he'd ignored that last part of the message and accidentally left his cerebellum in his room.

"Uh, excuse me? Al and Imal Elric?" Ed asked hesitantly. The girl with the purple hair and the dark-skinned boy turned to Edward. The girl's eyes grew to the size of tennis balls and she drawled, "Ho-ly shit. Are you serious? You're Edward Elric!" Imal didn't seem all that fazed though he did have a skeptical look on his face.

Ed only gaped. At first he didn't seem to see the resemblance. Now that he looked, he saw that the girl's facial features were the same delicate build of her descendant, Alphonse. Her eyes were the same color, a greenish gray. Her skin was pale from years living underground, but he was sure if you got her out in the sun, she'd turn a rich, gold tan. However, how Imal fit into the Elric family tree was like trying to put the square block into the circular hole.

"Alice, I think you should introduce yourselves properly," Mustang said in a slightly annoyed voice. Alice seemed to snap out of her sudden 'oh my god' moment to finally speak civil words.

"Right! Right, um…I'm Alice Elric and this is my brother, Imal," Alice said quasi-politely. "We're fourth generation Elrics." Imal nodded his head in agreement.

"I am an honorary Elric. I was adopted," Imal said, answering Ed's unanswered question.

"And now, finally we can be-"

And, yet again, the door was kicked open by another boot-clad foot. Mustang let out a roar of frustration and yelled, "Does anyone ever knock anymore?!" A small, tan boy with squinty eyes walked in with a cocky grin on his face. His companion walked in behind him, a giant tree of a man with the same squinty eyes. Both of them looked decently harmless-- save for the amount of kunai and ninja stars capable of restocking an armory that hung from their belts. They were obviously Xingese, as well as deadly.

"Sorry for being late. Got lost in this giant cake of a place," the shorter of the two said cockily. He flashed a bright smile. The other remained stoically silent. Mustang only sighed and slapped her palm to her forehead. In a begrudging voice she introduce them.

"To all of you who don't know our Xingese emissaries, this is Zhang Yao and his associate Guun Mei." The first boy bowed and mimed taking off a hat. He smiled charmingly as he took Willow's hand and gave her a smack on the back of it. Willow snatched her and blushed bright with an indignant huff.

"I am Guun Mei," the other said in a deep, though very quiet voice. Ed looked from Zhang to Guun with a surprised look. The Meis, as he remembered, were petite people. And the Yaos were slightly taller. It seemed that a couple of centuries did a number on your family's genealogy.

"Now that we're finally all here, I'm going to tell you why I got you to lug your asses up twelve floors," Mustang said in a sarcastic voice. She got a thoughtful look first, then pressed the intercom button.

"Gram, are there any other people in the corridor?" she asked sheepishly. Loudly the program answered, "Negative, Commander. There are no more potential interruptions." Mustang rolled her eyes.

"You didn't warn me before…why?"

"You didn't ask, ma'am." The Commander shook her head and said, "Anyways, I brought you here because of all of your respective abilities." She pointed at Willow and Richie.

"You two are good with mechanic workings as well as medical expertise." The twins nodded in agreement. Mustang pointed at Alice and her brother Imal.

"You two are our best encryption decipherers and hackers." Alice smiled and flashed a victory sign with a triumphant grin. Her brother was more modest with an embarrassed scratch to the back of the head. Mustang pointed at Zhang and Guun.

"And you two are our best martial art fighters." Zhang gave another smug smirk.

"You bet we are," he said with a sigh. Guun remained quiet, ever the man of few words.

Mustang pointed at Grayson. "And you…you're just good with info and I can count on you reporting back. You'd be too afraid not to." Grayson sighed resignedly. It was true. She eyed the rest if the people there. She pointed to Georgia, and the woman nodded imperceptibly. "I am transportation, yes." Mustang nodded.

Last, though definitely not least, she pointed to Ed. "And _you _are my only alchemist and fighter. Everyone else who knows alchemy, and then only the basics, is either incredibly old or incredibly young. You are also my only State Alchemist on hand. The other one is…well, AWOL." Mustang steepled her fingers and closed her eyes.

"On that subject your mission is currently this. I want you to go into the Patron City."

The room went into an uproar. Everyone was shouting indignations and protests. Ed was completely confused, and winced as loud voices barraged the room. Mustang rubbed her temples and shouted, "QUIET!"

There was a dead silence. The blond Commander sighed and stated, "I understand why you are all…very reluctant…about going to the lion's den. However, just because the last trip to the Patron City was nearly ten years ago doesn't mean it isn't doable."

"And how are we supposed to navigate? How are we supposed to blend in and find the right sellers and contacts? We've got near bloody nothing in terms of connection there," Zhang said skeptically. Mustang pointed to him and said, "That's where you're wrong. We do have contacts. Through Nirvana."

Everyone in the room groaned. Mustang rolled her eyes. "Quiet _down, _will you?"

Ed frowned and asked loudly, "What's the problem with Nirvana. She's just a…what is it? Alphysicist?" Guun suddenly spoke up, his voice deep and rumbling. Ed could actually feel his voice vibrate in his chest cavity.

"Not only an alphysicist. Escape artist. Martial arts expert. Alchemist. Not to mention damn good recon flyer. Catching Nirvana's like trying to catch smoke," Guun grumbled. Zhang snickered as he added, "Not to mention she's got a fine ra-- OW!" Willow hovered over him with a heavy medical text that just _happened_ to be right there. The Xingese man rubbed a large bump growing on his head. He grumbled at her.

"Where does she live?" Ed asked. A map of Amestris currently popped up on another wall. Edward was proud to say that he didn't scream like a frightened girl. A red dot appeared in the central south, then was enlarged to show a rusted city.

Mustang drawled, "This is your mission. I want you all to go into the Ruins and capture Nirvana. Kojak will join you." Everyone gave sounds of disgruntlement and annoyance.

Just as all were about to leave, Mustang added, "Oh, and I want it done by Thursday. You have forty-eight hours. Good luck."

Noises of complaint, dissent, and all around shock reverberated as the door slid shut on their incredulous faces.

"It's good to be Commander," Mustang sighed as she leaned back in her chair with her hands behind her head and a smile on her face.


	6. Outside

Catching Smoke

Edward walked into the library silently. It was early in the morning, too early for any casual person to step into the library. That was exactly what he wanted. Edward didn't always like to be alone, but there were just some things that needed to be left to one person.

The library was a giant room full of shelves, divided like a pie. It extended nearly four floors, and was the length of three football fields. It was the most extensive and complete collection of history left in the world. If the place was to go up in smoke, Oasis' entire civilization would've collapsed. That was the reason why it was on the Subterra level protected by tons upon tons of steel and rock.

Factory lights and a large dome light provided the needed illumination, casting long shadows as if the place were a warehouse instead of a plush center of learning. Chairs and tables littered the circular library, end tables holding up lamps and consoles. There were many, many computer docks as well as projection rooms for briefings. As of then, the projection rooms with their sliding glass doors were empty and darkened.

Edward looked around to see if the librarians were watching. He hadn't scheduled anything for the projection rooms, and he'd found out the hard way that the librarians were a stickler for procedures and schedules. He edged near one of the projection rooms with what he hoped was a nonchalant frame of face. Opening the door, he slid in and closed it.

The room was entirely black. He could see nothing except for the lit-up bench in the middle of the room. He tentatively sat in the middle of the bench, looking around at the blank walls. It was quiet here, with only the sounds of the humming equipment meant for projecting all types of things, from schematics to joyride fantasies to entire books' worth of pages.

Not really knowing what to do, Ed asked, "Uh…hey, Gram? Are you there?" There was an electronic sigh as the Program asked, "Yeah, yeah, whaddya want?" Ed winced at her/his less than pleased tone. He'd managed not to maim too many computers over the past couple of days, but…

"You're apprehensive because of the destruction of my many conduits, I suppose? Your elevated heartbeat and slightly erratic brainwaves denote such thoughts," Program said spookily. Ed would never be able to get used to Gram being able to almost read his mind.

"Um, well--"

"I heard your conversation with Spence." Ed sighed.

"And how exactly did you come by that?" he asked.

"I hear everything," was the only answer he got, which was enough for him. The thought that nothing escaped from her/his senses was unnerving at best, and freaking creepy at worst. He shook his head and asked, "The point being?"

"As usual, you humans portray me wrong. The computers are _not _my children. They are conduits of myself that I am able to access for information and such. They are akin to nerves in the human body's system," Program said petulantly. Ed put up his hands in submission.

"Okay, okay, I get it," Ed grumbled irritably. "Now do you mind?" There was another electronic sigh.

"As you wish. What do you wish to see, Edward Elric?" Ed groaned at the use of his full name. It made him sound old. Or that he was in trouble. He liked neither.

"Could you pull up paintings of Amestris?" Ed asked. Suddenly, images of deserts appeared, all in different styles and eras, but none that Ed had been meaning to see. He waved his hands for Program to stop and said, "I mean, before the Day of Promise." The paintings on the walls stopped moving. They disappeared one by one to be replaced by different landscapes of Amestris as a green place full of trees and plains.

Ed found the one he was looking for. He stood up slowly, touching the wall. He jumped back when the picture centered itself on the wall and grew bigger. He sighed out through his nose long-sufferingly. Sadly, he traced the painting with his fingers. It was long gone, but he thought that if he imagined hard enough, he could feel the paint beneath his fingers, the texture of the land transferred to canvas.

The painting was of his hometown of Resembool.

It used to hang in the den of his home, a replica of the real thing. The original had hung in the town hall above the city council seats. It showed an expansive view of the rich farmlands and the trees, as well as the beautiful skyline as the sun rose. A road ran through the painting, winding along until it disappeared into the forest.

"Enlarge it, please," Ed mumbled almost inaudibly. The painting grew, and Edward sat down on the bench, staring at the painting. He hadn't seen his hometown for so long. How long had it been? A couple of months…

Though, in retrospect, Ed realized that it was actually hundreds of years. Resembool was nothing but dust now, a pit of dirt scoured in the land, a ruin scarring the desert. That understanding tugged on Ed's heart as he contemplated the world he was about to face. He'd already packed for the mission out. Once they had Nirvana, they'd have only a week to make a list of provisions. Or so Mustang had said.

She'd sent them an email detailing the rest of their mission. Phase One was to get Nirvana, kidnapping her if they had to (a task that many deemed impossible). Phase Two was trekking through the desert in a caravan of camels, something Ed wasn't looking forward to. Horses were bad. From what he'd seen, camels were much, much worse. Phase Three was to get their materials, meet at the rendezvous point, and get airlifted out to base before the month was over.

"That's what Amestris used to look like, right?" Ed nearly jumped off the bench when Alice came in. She looked thoughtful, her purple hair tied back to reveal a second layer of brown underneath at the bottom. Vaguely, it reminded Ed of peanut-butter and jelly, but he chose not to say anything due to tact and familial respect.

"Yeah. This is where your however-many-great-grandfather Alphonse and I were born. Resembool," Ed stated, gesturing to the painting. Alice walked over and sat next to Ed.

"So what're you doing up so early? We Elrics don't usually rise early," Ed chuckled. Alice looked at him with a critical eye and said, "Then why are _you _up so early, Mr. Alchemist Who Sleeps Till The Crack Of Noon?" Ed shrugged with a sheepish smile.

There was a period of silence before Alice said, "I had to go to the Infirmary. My mom…she's sick. Really sick. Some genetic disease or whatever. I… I went to see her before I left for the Ruins." Ed looked over at Alice sadly. Her face was blank as she stared at the painting illuminated on the wall. Ed knew what it was like to lose a mother.

"She can be helped, right?" Ed asked hopefully. Alice's face split in a smile and said, "If all goes well in Patron City, she'll have the medicine she needs in no time. That's why I'm going to get Nirvana. That short circuit's the only one who can navigate the city's underworld."

Ed rubbed his chin as he stared at the painting of Resembool. The subject of Nirvana had confused Ed for a long time. It seemed that just about everyone in the entire bunker knew about Nirvana. Then again, how many alphysicists were there? He'd heard of…well, only one. So maybe her fame wasn't _so _unusual.

"What's the problem with Nirvana? She really seems to hate this place," he asked bluntly. Alice looked contemplative as she scratched the back of her head. She sighed and admitted, "Nirvana's older than I am so whatever it was, it was back before I met her. All I know are from the rumors. They say it had something to do with Kojak and Mustang… She's sort of like you. You hear about her everywhere, but you never actually meet her in the flesh."

Ed nodded with a sigh. It seems that Nirvana's detestation towards Oasis would remain a mystery. He leaned forwards with his chin in his hand. Alice stared at him unnervingly.

Ed looked at her with a perplexed look. "What?" Alice shook her head and said, "Nothing. It's just…your long hair's really pretty. It makes me wish I had hair like that." Ed was perplexed on how to answer this, but he didn't need to.

His commie suddenly beeped. He was receiving an IM. Pressing the right sequence of buttons (finally, he got it on the first try!), a message popped up in Kojak's distinctive handwritten print.

Kojak-- We leave in an hour. Gotta get out before the sun gets too high. Meet me at Lvl. 1.

"We're supposed to leave in an hour," Ed said to Alice, but she'd already gotten a sticky from Imal. She read the message quickly and said, "Crashin'. We'd better go, right?"

Ed ran up to his room, where he bunked with Kojak. The bunk room was a barrack, impersonal and incredibly bare. There were two beds, a single tiny bathroom, and a nightstand with lights embedded in a strip in the wall that could be detached to make handheld flashlights. The walls were metal, and the ceiling the same. There was a small screen for communications next to the sliding metal door. Ed sat on the bed and pulled his new, fancy (to him) backpack.

A lot of the stuff they made these days were a lot tougher. Ed had seen Spencer drop his Notebook© right in front of a giant truck with treads for wheels, and it came out with hardly a scratch. Spence hadn't seemed too worried about it, but Ed was sure it would've gotten crushed and spit out like sunflower seeds in a smoker's mouth. His backpack, if it was believed, could withstand degrees up to 1500 degrees Fahrenheit, and had enough elasticity to fit up to two hundred pounds. Of course, the reason _why _anyone would want to stick two hundred pounds into a backpack was beyond Ed, but he just went along and decided it was a pretty cool backpack.

He had to say the elasticity was pretty handy, seeing as he had to pack a lot of stuff. He'd managed to vacuum pack his clothes into the special plastic sack in the back of the pack, and that left a whole lot of room for the rest of the junk Kojak had handed him to bring.

He checked that he had everything. There was a water canteen, his flashlight, his compass (which was way more complicated than it should be), and a space-bag. The space-bag had confused Ed to no end. It didn't seem like much, just a thin cloth bag big enough for him to slip into. However, he found it incredibly warm, so warm to the point where Ed had to check it to see if there was a built-in heater somewhere. There were also other desert survival things in his bag and made him wonder exactly how long he'd be gone.

Once he was sure he was geared up for any possible thing that could happen in the desert, Edward heaved the pack on his back. As he passed by the door, he noticed something in the sheen of the metal.

How long had it been since he'd seen his reflection? Ed turned towards it self-consciously, aware of how skinny he was as well as how little he'd grown. His hair was bound back in its usual braid, but he felt strange in the clothing they'd given him to wear. He was wearing a form-fitting black tank top, army fatigues, and a flak jacket. They were all a drab brown, different completely from the usual military-blue he was used to.

Ed ignored the reflection and nabbed his pocket watch. He knew it seemed sentimental and maybe weak, but this was the last root to home he had. It gave him a measure of comfort to have something from his own era to hang on to. He tucked it into his pocket and left to go and search for Kojak.

After searching Level One of the bunker, he found that Kojak was nowhere to be found. Ed was early, so he decided his new partner must be elsewhere. Using the tracker doodad in his commie, he managed to find Kojak on Level Two in a small room.

"Gram, what's this place here?" he asked his commie, pointing to the small room on the touch screen map. Gram appeared as a woman icon sitting on one of Ed's icons on the legend of the map. She leaned to look at it and said, "That, dear Edward, is the chapel. Pray tell, why would an agnostic want to go there? Hmm?" Ed stumbled over his words for a moment.

"Wha-- How did you know I was--" Ed stammered. He didn't like to tell people his religious affiliation. Despite his easiness in confessing his religious standpoint, he liked to avoid the matter if possible. However, his question was stopped as he saw he was in front of the chapel doors.

They were wood doors, incredibly expensive Ed would soon learn. He frowned as he hesitantly opened the doors into a church. It was small, with a few pews, some Bibles, and an altar at the end of the aisle. He looked around, amazed at the amount of light being let into the chapel from so far underground. Kojak sat as a big, hulking man at the first pew in front of the altar. His head was bowed towards the altar as he mumbled.

Ed approached slowly, unsure if he should interrupt or not. He didn't have time to make a decision, however, because Kojak motioned for Edward to come over without even looking up. Slightly unnerved at Kojak's ability to sense people in a room, he walked over to the big man and sat next to him. There was silence for a few moments before Kojak finally spoke in his light, sugar-darkened tones.

"I was going to meet you, you know. You didn't have to come after me," he said, chuckling slightly. Ed looked uncomfortable as he looked up at the altar.

"I got tired of waiting for you," Ed finally said, looking around at the light blue shades of the chapel. It was peaceful…but also eerily quiet. "So, uh, what are you …doing here? It isn't a Sunday and it isn't a Wednesday…" Kojak was notorious for going to service at seven in the morning-- at least, he was to the subordinates. He ended up waking everyone because if you didn't wake up before he did, all of your hot water was gone. Edward had had to take more than one cold shower due to sleeping in.

Kojak chuckled, his voice rolling softly. He clapped Ed on the back, nearly sending him sprawling on the floor.

"Boy, I do this before any mission that includes going out into the Great Empty," Kojak said with a smile. Ed looked perplexed as he asked, "Uh, no offense, but…why?" Kojak looked at Ed with a strange look before answering, "Because if there is a God out there, we need all the help we can get. The desert will take you and fry you, chew you up, then spit you back out. She doesn't play around, man." He got a faraway look in his eyes as he said, "Many a soldier's been lost out there to chimeras and heat stroke. This may be a short trip to the Ruins, but anything can happen in the hour we'll be let out."

Ed contemplated Kojak's words. He knew the desert was a dangerous place having been out there himself once to the Xerxes ruins. This seemed different, though. It seemed as if the desert itself had changed in the past 250 years.

"What's out there, exactly?" he asked as he stared at the altar. His gaze swiveled to Kojak, and the large black man only let out a bark of a laugh before standing. He patted Ed on the shoulder with one massive paw and said, "I'll let you see for yourself. Wouldn't want you bailin' out on your first run." That comment did nothing to reassure Ed.

They left the chapel to Level One of the Oasis bunker, the very top level. It was basically a large, circular floor that opened up to a large assortment of doors. There were many sleek vehicles there, including the strange Octis Ed had been delivered on from the city Ruins. He was bewildered by all the machinery as he watched the twins prep up three Octises with food, water, and spare tires and other equipment in the event there should be a break down in the middle of the desert.

"This is what we're taking?" Ed asked incredulously. The Octis didn't look like it could take them very far in the desert sands. Its spindly extra four wheels didn't look like they'd handle being out there in the dust and deep dunes.

"Yep," Richie answered, a wrench in his mouth.

"Uh-huh," Willow grunted, turning a screw.

Kojak laughed at Ed's disbelieving expression and said, "No worries, little man. This thing'll take you to Patron City and back, no sweat. It's tougher than it looks." Ed was about to go on a rant about the mention of his small stature, but the man was already walking off to one of the Octises. Ed fumed for a second before coming to inspect the strange vehicle.

On an in-depth inspection it had a large trunk in the back that extended into the carriage of the ATV look alike, meaning the engine was far smaller than it appeared. There was a large array of buttons and switches on the panel which was flush with the handle bars, and the entire thing was a bright green color, easily distinguishable in the sands. There was a strange groove in the front and sides of the vehicle, as well as a semi-circular ridge with a slit going around the seat of the Octis.

"What's this thing for?" Ed asked, pointing to the ridge with its slit. Richie swung himself out from underneath his Octis to stand and push a button out of the many on the panel. Suddenly, a large glass dome swooshed shut over the cockpit and seats of the Octis, creating a 180 degree windshield. Ed shouted in surprise, but suddenly laughed as he tapped the glass.

"Pretty neat, huh? It's a new feature, for keeping out the sand. We always have this problem with dust getting into our eyes, even if we wear helmets. The sci guys figured it out, and we have this sweet Cresclear glass dome," Richie said enthusiastically, patting the glass as if it were a trusty steed. Ed peered at it curiously.

"What's it made out of?" Ed asked, trying to scratch it with his fingernail. Richie thought about it and said, "They grow it in a vat around a scaffolding out of some weird bacterial soup. I don't really know the exact configuration of the thing, but I think most of it's silicon. It's tough stuff, though, probably on par with fiberglass except it doesn't shatter into splinters."

"All right, people, we're moving out! Come on, you lizzies, get moving! If it gets any later, I'm making you ride with the top down!" Georgia's voice suddenly boomed inside of the floor, making heads turn. She was wearing her usual tank top and shorts, a pair of guns strapped in holsters around her hips. She said, "Fox One, copy."

One of the Octises rolled out immediately, stopping in front of her. She climbed in and pressed a button on the panel. The Cresclear glass dome whooshed shut over her and dimmed to a black tint. She drove to the front metal door.

In a flurry of activity, everyone was at their Octis and ready to go. Ed watched miraculously as the giant door in front of them started to lift on giant hydraulic shafts. The sand started to swirl in as bright sunshine burst through the door. Ed shielded his eyes even though his shield was already tinted. It was amazing how bright the sun could be after so long underground. Ed had almost forgotten what sunlight even looked like.

Finally, the doors halted and a voice from the radio jolted Ed out of his awe.

"Fox Two, are you ready?" Georgia's voice came out slightly tinny, but it sounded as if she were in the Octis with Ed.

"Fox Two, ready to roll," Kojak said.

"Fox Three?"

"Check and--"

"Checkmate," the twins assured, one after the other. They had a specially geared up Octis that was for support, maintenance, and utilities. It was big enough to fit both of them easily.

"Fox Four?" Ed waited for Fox Four to answer. There was a period of silence before Georgia asked again, "Fox _Four? _Ed, that's you." Ed slammed his head into the dashboard dejectedly and muttered, "Present."

"All right, that's everyone then." Ed did a double take. Wait, what about all of those other people who'd appeared at Mustang's office?

Ed pressed the intercom button (or what he hoped was the intercom button). He spoke into it and said, "Whoa, whoa, what about Alice and Imal and those other people who showed up at the briefing?"

There was a deep sigh over the radio waves as Georgia spoke in her 'explaining-this-to-an-idiot' voice. Very slowly, she explained, "Ed, Alice is late and therefore not going. Imal is always with her, and therefore he's not going either. The Xingese will deal with it because _they _are late, and we are on a tight schedule. This is all that's going because they're--"

"WAIT UP! WAIT, WE'RE HERE!!!" Ed looked behind him to see Alice and Imal running like they had a hellhound on their heels. Alice had her purple hair combed back into a standard ponytail and was dressed in the same desert-drab uniform as everyone else. Imal ran behind her in the same garb. They hopped onto an Octis fluidly.

"Fox Five, ready to go," Alice's excited voice said over the airwaves.

"All processes deemed ready," Imal stated.

"Can we _go now?_" Again, that was Alice. Georgia chastised, "Get here faster, you slugs. We nearly left without you."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, let's get out there. I wanna see the dunebugs! Gerry told me they were, like, ten feet tall!"

"Alice…." Kojak's voice was full of warning. Ed looked nervously at Alice's Octis as they took off over the sand.

"Crazy kids," Georgia muttered. She roared after them, and the twins' went soon after that. Kojak peeled after the twins and Ed tentatively edged forward. He'd taken a crash course in driving an Octis just before their mission date, and he was still shaky at the control panels. Still, seeing as his Octis hadn't exploded into a fireball yet, he had to say that he must be doing _something _right. Still, that last comment Alice had made…

"Kojak, what are dunebugs?" Ed asked anxiously. He'd seen all manner of strange things on the Oasis intranet system about the wildlife. Most of the things out here had managed to evolve into gigantic monsters, mainly because of castoff energy from alchemical processes that involved life. Dunebugs didn't sound fun.

"Awww, ignore Alice. You'll be fine. They're just big bugs, is all. Just make sure you keep that glass hood up and you'll be A-OK, got it?" This did nothing to alleviate Ed's feeling of foreboding pertaining to insects.

Georgia went over their procedure of travel while they traversed the desert floor.

"Remember, stay at least two feet behind another Octis, never get more than two lengths away from another vehicle, and whatever you do, don't stop. If you have to pee, you are on your own." Ed wiped his forehead. It was already hot inside of the Octis, despite the fact that it was pretty well air-conditioned, which was a godsend out in this desert.

"Shouldn't you have gone over all of that _before _we left?" Edward asked. There was the hiss of static for a moment before Georgia answered back, "Well, if everyone had been here on time, maybe I would have been able to. Besides, most of this stuff is common sense. You'd have to be a screwy bolt not to understand any of the desert survival." With Georgia, it was mainly 'learn quick or die.' Ed was getting that really fast.

Inside of Alice and Imal's Octis (they'd taken a two-seater) they saw something strange. A sort of shift in the sands occurred, making Alice point out over Imal's shoulder.

"Hey, what's that?" Alice asked, her voice quiet. She'd never been topside before, and everything was new and bright and shiny to her. Imal hardly took the time to flicker his eyes over at the shifting sands before shrugging and saying, "Dunno."

Alice pouted at him and said, "You're no fun. Let's go check it out. It might be dunebugs!" Imal glared at her from over his shoulder and said, "We're not supposed to go off course." Alice whined in his ear.

"Come on! We're only going to be up here for two days! What's five minutes out of two days? Please please please please please please please--" Finally, Imal growled with frustration and wrenched the wheel to the left, bringing them closer to the shifting sands.

As they edged the border of the swiftly moving dunes, Georgia saw one of the dots on her tracker leave the course. She frowned, pulling up the number and swearing as she took in satellite infrared pictures from above. She couldn't _believe _them! They knew desert procedure, and this was most definitely not it. You never left the pack, no matter what.

"Imal, Alice, get away from there. That is an order," Georgia said firmly into the radio system. The dot kept diverging from the line of dots towards the red field on Georgia's layout map. She clicked the radio on again on a different channel and stated again, "Fox Four, you get out of there _now. _That is a direct order. If you proceed--"

"Aw, come on! It might be a ruin," Alice whined, but Georgia cut her off and shouted, "That is _not _a ruin, you idiot! It's a Sandtrapper!"

There was an explosion of sand and sound as something shot out of the ground hardly a few meters from the caravan of Octises. Ed let loose a string of curses as his Octis was nearly blown sideways, and the rest of the line scattered across the dunes.

"WHOA!"

"Holy mother of--!"

"What the fizz was that?!"

A large arachnid poked its head out of the ground, its fangs visibly clanking against each other. Its eight beady eyes glared at the Octises, which weren't much smaller than itself. Deciding that it wasn't going to chance trying to take one more than two of the vehicles at once, it crawled backwards into its sand hole, covering itself with sand once more. Ed watched in amazement as it appeared to turn back into a dune.

"What…the hell…" Ed trailed off, staring as Georgia affirmed that everyone was alright.

"Fox Four, do you copy? Fox Four, are you alright?" Ed snapped out of his reverie to answer back, "Yeah, I'm fine. What was that?"

"That is a Sandtrapper. It is one of the many reasons why we travel in packs of more than two. And also the reason why we _don't divert from course,"_ Georgia emphasized, aiming the latter part of her statement to Alice. The girl could be heard nervously chuckling over the radio.

Behind the Octises you could see plumes of sand drifting in a line. Ed looked back and lifted the shield on his Octis. He stood up and shielded his eyes against the sun to stare at the oncoming dust cloud. Kojak and Georgia were doing the same. As the dust cloud got larger and larger, Ed could make out two distinct figures. Both were upright and moving incredibly fast.

Ed nearly fell over as one of the Xingese emissaries passed by at a breakneck speed. He shouted as he fell over and was buried in the sand. The Xingese, however, was doing half-pipe air tricks across the dunes on what looked like some sort of mini toboggan sled strapped to his feet.

"Yee-haw!" he shouted gleefully as he executed a three-sixty spin. The other Xingese came to a stop next to Ed. Guun Mei offered a hand to Ed and heaved him up out of the sand.

"Sorry we're late. The Sandrunners we had were malfunctioning, so we got a new pair. However, they're slightly--" Guun winced as he heard Zhang curse while falling off of his Sandrunner. He rolled down a dune and landed in a heap at the foot of Georgia's Octis.

"--tricky. They're experimental. We lifted them off of the Sci-Dep's hands," Guun said. Ed looked at him perplexed.

"Sci-Dep?"

"Science Department of Transportation, Communications, and Genetics. Or just Sci-Dep, if you don't want your tongue sore," Guun rumbled. Zhang stood up and dusted himself off before picking up his Sandrunner. He pressed a button it, and the two-foot wide disk collapsed into a single, thin rectangular sheet of blue metal.

"As Guun said, we're sorry. Got caught up in testing these toys out," Zhang said with a grin. Georgia glared at him and snapped, "Well, now that you're here we might as well get going. Come on, we've wasted enough time already. We've got a satellite lock on Nirvana, but we don't know how long she'll stay exposed. She's been on the rooftops most of the day."

"Why would she be there?" Ed mused, running a hand through his yellow, sandy bangs. Willow answered bluntly, "Could be sunbathing. The girl's got neon white skin. And since she doesn't get visitors, she's probably na-"

"That's enough suggesting for now_, _Willow," Kojak said with a hint of warning. Willow snapped her trap shut. Ed blushed before shaking his head and asking, "Really, why would _anyone _want to be out in this sun?" He was already starting to sweat. His back was sticky, and his hair was plastered to his face. His automail felt like two hot irons, and he'd only been outside for a few minutes.

"She's been testing something. We don't know what it is. It could be some sort of alphysical device, or as Willow suggested, she could just be getting a tan. With a bathing suit on," Richie stated, giving a pointed look to his twin at the last comment. Willow gave him an innocent smile before gleefully saying, "Well, are we going or not?"

They started forwards again with no problems. No Sandtrappers, no break downs, no diverting from course. It seemed that all the excitement had been packed into about five minutes before it disappeared back into a hole in the dust.

"Why does this place have to be so _huge_?" Ed lamented. He was bored to death. He propped his feet on the dashboard, having found the correct button for autopilot, something he'd been greatly amused at.

"There's a reason why we call it the Big Empty."

"Got that right."

Suddenly, Ed could see something on the horizon. He leaned forwards and looked out over the expanse of dunes. There seemed to be spires sticking up out of the ground, broken pieces of buildings dotting the area around them. They passed by a few, empty block houses before they reached an actual road. Ed suddenly knew where he was.

"Hey…hey, isn't this the place where you guys found me?" he asked. There was a crackle over the radio before Kojak answered, "Yeah. Boy, you've got a fine memory. I can't find ever find my way through this place. Get lost every time. Everything looks the same."

There were gutted skyscrapers reaching for the sky forlornly. Glass shone as if trying to illuminate the dank and dirt around them. Yipping noises of chimeras could be heard echoing through the city. The road was cracked and full of sand, bits of litter long trapped in the crusted path.

Someone whistled over the intercom.

"This place is about as empty as my stomach."

"Shut up, Alice. We don't care. You eat after we find Nirvana."

"Awww, what?!"

Ed scanned the rooftops. He'd remembered that they had said she'd been on top of the buildings all day. Why would she be up there in the direct heat of the sun? The buildings were so tall, too. How did she get up there? He remembered her seemingly-magical skates and decided that height wasn't much of a challenge for Nirvana.

Something stirred on one of the rooftops. Ed frowned as he looked up. He pressed the intercom and said, "I see something."

"Where?" Georgia asked, flipping her channel open so everyone could hear.

"Up there, on that sky scraper with the giant cup on it."

"Edward, that's a satellite dish."

"Um…what the hell's a satellite? And why does it need a dish?"

Georgia sighed and looked up. She grabbed a pair of binoculars from her dashboard and looked up. She flipped the sunscreen over them so the glare of the day wouldn't blind her.

"Yeah. That's Nirvana all right. She's got something on her back."

All eyes turned to the building. What did they do now? How were they supposed to get up to her? A figure walked to the edge of the building. Zhang sucked in a sharp breath of air and cursed. Guun grunted nervously.

Willow's blue eyes widened. "She wouldn't…"

The figure started to tip forwards off the lip of the building.

Richie shook his head. "Yes, she would…"

Everyone bolted out of their Octises as the figure left the building and headed straight for the ground**.**

* * *

Dr. Yok: OH. EM. GEE. I am SO sorry for giving you guys a busted copy. My idiotic Window's Processor does this wierd thing with all of my Docs, so when I try to transfer them, half of it's in italics and all that junk. Those who read my stories hot off the press already know this. GAH. Must bash head into wall until story ideas leak out....

*And if you'll just push the PRETTY review button right down there...no, to the left...a little more...too far, too far, go to the right! ...aw, you know what, never mind.*


	7. Captive

**:Captive:**

Nirvana stood on top of the building above the skyline of the Ruins. The air was clear, and it brushed her face viciously, pulling at her. It was beckoning her to fall back, to go from the lip of the building back to a safer place at the stairs.

She closed her eyes, relishing this feeling of power-- that power of holding her own life in her hands and that no one could do a damn thing about it. There was a change in the wind, and she knew this was right. Her momentum started to change. Now she was leaning forwards against the wind. She felt like she could do anything she wanted to now.

Her body finally started its downward journey. The wind ripped at her body, and she dived down like a hawk. Her eyes were on the ground. This was the high pinnacle of her experiment. This was the make or break point. How far could she go? How far was she willing to go?

Finally, she deftly reached for the ripcord on her chest, releasing a part of mechanical wings inscribed with formulas and symbols. They lifted upwards, and suddenly she was no longer falling-- she was flying. She was flying like a bird.

She smiled and screamed with glee as she suddenly rushed upwards into a loop-the-loop. She banked hard to the right and kicked off of a building. Her wings worked! They really worked! She'd been hoping they would for a while now, but she'd decided to test them today when the winds were sure to pick up. A gust lifted her higher now, and she banked left, circling around a building. She ran along it, her body parallel with the ground.

"WOO HOO!!" she shouted, leaving the building's surface and throwing herself off into a downward dive. Suddenly, something caught her eye. Her glee suddenly turned to annoyance. A group of people were on the ground, looking up at her in awe.

"Nirvana! Nirvana, get down here!" There was Georgia. She could almost feel the authority she radiated from all the way up here, eighty meters in the air. It wasn't much of a help, though. What power did she have over her? None. She couldn't drag her down or shoot her. If they needed her, they wanted her to be alive and conscious.

Nirvana flipped Georgia the bird on a flyby, and Georgia's mouth pressed into a thin line. Nirvana stuck her tongue out at her, and did another climb.

Suddenly, something hit her in the back. She unexpectedly collided with a building, trying hard to keep her wings from collapsing. She stood on a building, looking around for whatever had hit her. It hadn't been object, that was for sure…

She heard him first. "That's for beating me up in the pod station!"

She saw him. She cursed angrily, pushing off of the building and into the air. She was going to crash him, black and blue.

Shakily, Ed tried to steady himself. He'd seen an extra pair of wings on a rack, and was amazed to find they weren't mechanical. However, they were made strangely, spreading across the chest and legs firmly, almost like a second skin and frame work of bone. He found that flapping them had been easy, and he almost immediately lifted off the ground. He looked at the material the wings were made of, a sort of plastic that flexed and caught wind like a sail so easy, the slightest breeze nearly knocking him over.

And just like that, he was in the air. He was shaky, that was true. He had to grit his teeth and keep himself from screaming as he veered to the left towards a skyscraper before reorienting himself. The wind buoyed him upwards in a swell, and he flapped like mad.

A sound caught his attention. He looked down and saw Georgia yelling at him, as well as Kojak's bright smile as he watched Ed fly. The others on the ground were amazed. Ed smiled and suddenly tracked down Nirvana, kicking her between the shoulder blades.

"That's for beating me up in the pod-station!"

"Where'd he find those?" Willow whispered to her twin, who looked mischievously informed. He smiled devilishly and jerked a finger over his shoulder to a rack in the building Nirvana had vacated. There was another set of wings, but did anyone really want to be up there with two hotheads? Richie rose an eyebrow at Willow who looked like she wanted to strap on the pair and be off.

"Really?"

There was a period of silence before she sighed and said, "No."

Ed circled around Nirvana who was seething like a boiling pot. Her expression was furious.

"You put one rip in those wings…!" Ed made a disgruntled noise. She was worried about _the wings. _It didn't matter she'd just been hit with a cheap shot or the fact she was about to be captured.

"That's the least of your worries!" Ed shouted back, veering around to dive-bomb her. She suddenly went into a climb, leaving Ed to smash into the concrete wall of a building. He shook his head, and tried to clear the twittering birds around his head. Ed looked up from his dazed state and found himself falling. He righted himself and was kicked viciously in the head.

"What, you're going out on me already? Ha! Circuit, you've got nothing!" Ed was blindsided with another hit to the side. He flew through the air and caught himself on a pole as he passed by into a building. His automail hand nearly wrenched itself from its socket, and he hardly had time to block Nirvana's next attack.

"What the hell is up with you guys and weird slang?!" Ed grunted at her, grabbing her boot and slamming her into a wall. His wings suddenly got tangled in a fray of wires. Nirvana stood up and saw him struggling. She smiled. He was a program with its backdoor wide open. This was way too easy.

"Why are you doing this? Why do you guys want me? Let me guess-- I have information you want, and now I have to come with you or die," Nirvana taunted, standing just outside his reach. If this was how simple it was going to be, she wanted to have fun with her food before she finished him off.

Ed glared at her, flapping the wings again and answered, "No. More like, come with us or have your ass kicked. And _then _come with us." Nirvana smirked and aimed a punch, only to have it go through air instead of into Ed's face.

Her shocked look didn't last long as Ed kicked Nirvana in the gut. She blasted backwards into a pane of glass. It didn't break, but it did leave a crack. Nirvana let out a soundless scream, and she sat on the ground gaping for gulps of air like a fish out of water. Her angry, green eyes tracked Ed as he neared her.

"What'd I tell--" Ed's legs were knocked out from under him, and Nirvana was now on top of him, pinning him into the ground. He grimaced as she stuck her knee into his stomach. She had both hands around his neck, but she wasn't choking him. Her wings were fanned out behind her. This close to her, he could see that these were a different, more sleek pair than his was.

"Not on your life," Nirvana seethed in his face. Ed jammed a knee in her stomach, and they rolled over, tussling on the floor of the abandoned building. Finally, Ed managed to sit on top of her, his wings spread out over her. She growled at him, and attempted to shove him off, but he was a good twenty or so pounds heavy than she was. He smirked triumphantly before suddenly being thrown down an elevator shaft.

He reflexive sprang out his wings, though he did it in a sense of panic. He flapped furiously to keep from crashing at the bottom. Above, he could see Nirvana going into a nose dive to take him down. Ed's eyes grew fierce as he glided upwards and slammed into her. They fell through the air like a comet before they fell on a bed of wires and insulation. Punches and kicks continued to fly around, but Nirvana was beginning to get the upper hand.

"Why can't you people just leave me alone?" she asked as she kicked Ed, but was surprised to find she had kicked something much more solid than flesh. Nirvana looked at Ed in puzzlement for one second before a metal fist smashed into her kidney. She screamed out wordlessly, crumpling into the nest of wasted building materials. Ed stood over her victoriously. His commie, which had been basically shattered beyond repair, was beeping plaintively, as if it knew this was the last message it was going to send. Ed pushed one rough finger to the touch screen, keeping an eye on Nirvana. She stirred, but otherwise didn't get back up. She glared at him out of the corner of her eye as she breathed shakily.

"Edward?! Edward, when I find you, your ass is _mine,_ do you hear me--?" Ed cut Georgia off by shouting back, "I have Nirvana." Georgia's rant stopped short, and she tersely asked, "Where?" Ed looked around himself and admitted, "I, uh, don't really know. Last thing I remembered, the building was really tall."

"Ed, all of the buildings are tall," Alice commented. Ed sighed at her. Georgia told her to get off of their frequency and said to him, "Wait there while we try to pinpoint your--" At that moment, the commie decided it was time to submit to Death, and it clicked off. He sighed as he looked down at it, chucking the thing into the rubble.

The sound of scrambling assaulted his ears, and he whipped around. Nirvana was struggling to stand, her hands around a bloody mess on her side. Ed's eyes widened, and he helped her stand. She snarled at him, nearly snapping her teeth in his face, but allowed him to help, though she made sure he was very ginger with handling her. She sat down and laid her back to a wall. Her breathing was normal, but she wasn't looking good.

Her glare was hot enough to melt metal. Ed backed up a step or two, but never removed his eyes from her. Nirvana cocked her head to the side, her gaze lazy though still angry. She flipped him off lazily before looking straight ahead, diverting her stare. She said, "So you work for them. You just do whatever they tell you."

Ed sat down in front of her, a cord he'd found in the rubble wound around his hand in case he needed to bind her to something. He nodded shamelessly.

"Yeah. I do," he answered. "They've got to have a good reason to go after you. After all, they fight the homunculi. Why would you be on any other team, unless you were a crazy greed driven maniac." After this statement, his look cut across to her warily as he asked, "You aren't a crazy greed driven maniac, are you?" Nirvana rolled her eyes and scoffed at him, a slight smile playing on her lips, though it was sardonic and dry.

"Yes, a mentally unbalanced person who loves money and possessions will help the homunculi by gathering dust in this rotten dump. Nice deduction skills, Sherlock," she quipped at him, flicking a piece of rock towards him. He avoided it easily, but Nirvana tripped him with a swift sweep of the legs. Ed landed hard on his back, and he watched as she smirked at him, but didn't attempt to escape. He sat up painfully, groaning and cursing as he did so, and asked, "Okay, you knock me flat on my back, but you don't try to run away? Weird girl."

Nirvana looked at him with a deadpan expression and said, "I'm used to people going through exercises of futility. I'm not one of them, though." She winced as she held her side. Ed walked over to her and asked, "What happened?"

Nirvana protectively curled around the wound and mumbled, "Nothing." Ed's face darkened, and he gripped her hand, removing it from the wound. She protested loudly, and vulgarly, but he saw that it was an old wound that he'd accidentally reopened. No wonder she was taken down so easily. Nirvana jerked her hand out of his and said, "It was an accident from a previous experiment. In fact, it's the one on your back." Ed looked at the wings he was still wearing. They had seemed to work fine, but he guessed it must've been a more human error rather than mechanical.

"Why do they want me?" Nirvana asked seriously. Ed looked down at her and answered after a beat, "You're our link to Patron City, where ever the hell that is." Nirvana gave a sharp 'ha!' before saying, "Look at you, playing soldier. You don't even know what my story is, but you do what they tell you anyways because you're their dog." Angrily, he was about to kick her…but he saw something in her eyes that stopped him. It was a sort of empathy, almost. She'd been there before, under a military's thumb. It was true, he'd never even really known why they were going after her, or why she refused to help them. Usually, he didn't do anything the military ordered, but at the moment Ed really didn't have a choice in this new environment.

Suddenly, Alice burst into the building, a small device in her hand that was beeping like a deranged bomb. She grinned as she looked up at Edward and said, "So this is where you've been hiding out. Nice drop, bu the by. But man, you completely crumped up that commie. We'll have to get you an ear-hold one by the time you're done…" Alice's own commie rang, and she shook out her communications band around her wrist, looking at the screen with an expression of annoyed indignation. She typed something on the screen, which appeared as a lasered light image in the air.

Nirvana tried to stand up, and Edward helped her. She shoved him off of her, saying, "I know how to get up, thank you. I don't need you to play knight in shining armor as well as soldier boy." She dusted herself off. Alice seemed to be staring at her with near hero-worship. The blonde alphysicist looked at her wings and gave an angry groan. She took them off, inspecting them, sitting back down. Alice sidled up to Edward and said, "Is that really… her?" Edward gave a disgruntled, "Yeah. I'd know that punch anywhere."

Georgia burst in without ceremony. She was followed by the Rockbell twins, Kojak, Imal, and the two Xingese emissaries. Georgia didn't wait. She walked over to Nirvana and clapped two mal-ware gloves over her hands. Mal-ware gloves were made of a liquidized metal that could be controlled with a remote control to change the shape and conform to people's hands. Originally, they were mining equipment, but these days they were used as a pair of very efficient, very heavy handcuffs.

The metal in the gloves polarized, and Nirvana's metal-covered hands flew together. She glared at Georgia and said, "Hey, you couldn't wait for me to fix this stupid thing first?" She peeled off her shoes, and started to work on the wings with her toes instead. Ed stared blatantly, as well as just about everyone else. Suddenly, the awkward silence was broken by Kojak's booming laugh.

"Girl, you don't change. Those freaky little piggly-wigglies of yours never stop, do they?" Kojak asked, wiping a tear from his eye. Nirvana turned to look out the corner of her eye, a rueful smile spreading on her face.

"You let 'em catch me, Kojak?" she asked. As his laughter died down, Kojak said apologetically, "I'm sorry, Nirv. We had to have you. You're valuable, not to mention as dangerous as a caged boom-dog without a muzzle. Mustang wanted you--"

Nirvana scoffed and said, "I should've figured. The PMS Queen beckons her maids." The last sentence was said with a face of mocking politeness. " 'Oh, why yes, Miss Bitch, I'll get that for you. Don't you move.'" She made a face at the floor, sticking out her tongue in the direction of the floor.

Kojak knelt next to her while everyone else stood awkwardly in the doorway of the building. He sat down like a collapsing building, settling down after he'd hit the floor. He looked at Nirvana intensely while she ignored him and continued to work on the pair of mangled wings with a screwdriver only God could guess where she'd gotten. After several minutes of puttering with the wings, Nirvana finally stopped working and sighed heavily. Edward watched with an interested, though wary, gaze. This girl was indomitable, but this man was managing to bring her to a dead halt just by staring at her. Nirvana lifted her white-blonde head to look at Edward with her piercing gaze, and Ed realized that he'd been found out. The boy stuffed his hands in his pockets and 'hmphed,' looking off to the side with an annoyed look. Nirvana rolled her eyes at him and muttered, "Men."

At last, she turned to Kojak. "What do you guys even want? You just go out and attack me--"

"Not like you would've come down of your own volition," Georgia muttered as she examined her fingernails. The Rockbell twins snickered, and Nirvana seethed, "Hey, don't make me tell her about the boiler room incident." The twins immediately clapped their traps shut, looking shiftily from side to side as if there was someone else in the room who could possibly tell Georgia about their little screw-up with the bolts that lead to everyone getting cold showers. Georgia looked at them suspiciously, but didn't say anything further.

"--go out and attack me… without even asking what you guys wanted me to do," she finished with a vindictive glare at Edward. Ed returned the favor with an immature gesture, which nearly made Nirvana rise to her feet if Kojak hadn't pushed her back down with one, giant paw.

"I know, I know, you're angry. Well, we had to get you to sit still somehow. You sure wouldn't have negotiated otherwise," Kojak said calmly. He looked up at Edward with a small smile. "But I gotta admit, it was fun watchin' you two nuke it out in the air. I wish I'd had my vidcam."

"Kojak, wrap it up, we're about to get company," a voice said from outside. Zhang poked his head inside, and looked straight at Nirvana with a completely deadpanned expression. Nirvana lifted one eyebrow with a smirk.

"You… again. I thought I sent you crying to your wet nurse," Nirvana asked. Zhang's eye twitched once, and then he was gone. Ed wandered over outside while Kojak and Nirvana continued their conversation. What was it that was so interesting? Zhang had said they were getting company…

Kojak finally said, "We're going into the City."

Nirvana tried not to laugh, but failed utterly. "You…you wanna…! You want to go into the CITY!? HA! What did that son of a bitch do to you guys that you want to go in there?! You really are asking for it, man. That's a good one. Whew, you nearly had me--"

"I'm serious, Nirv." There was a period of silence.

"Oh."

"Georgia…" The woman's name was drawn out by worry and fear. Suddenly, everyone was outside, including their captive. The twins looked over to Ed, who was holding a pair of small binoculars hardly bigger than his palm. He handed them back to Zhang, who pocketed them.

"What is it, Ed? Zhang, what's going on?" Guun stood behind them like a giant wall of protection, but he was standing in the wrong spot. Georgia looked up at the large man, whose face was a craggy cliff face that betrayed nothing.

"What is it?" Georgia asked exasperatingly. Finally, Zhang said, "We don't have company. Company just got eaten. We've got a whole party instead." He pointed to the sky. Several large somethings were flying their way, and they didn't look friendly. In fact, with the binoculars, you could see their six inch long teeth, their beady eyes, their tough hide, and sharp claws. Friendly wasn't the best word to use. Terrifying and pants-wetting, maybe.

"What are they?" Edward asked quietly. He'd never seen anything like that before. The closest he could come to were pictures in a book about dinosaurs. Even these were more bizarre. They could almost feel the smirk on Nirvana's face as she informed them, "Psuedoraptors. Ugly bastards, huh? They'll be here in, oh, say, five minutes or so. I suggest you find somewhere to hide if you like having four limbs. They especially like to go for your stomach."

Everyone turned to her in horror before an ear-splitting screech cut the air. The entire murder of raptors echoed the call, creating an echoing monster that reverberated around the city's dead walls.

"RUN!" Zhang shouted, bolting for cover as the raptors suddenly began to dive.

* * *

**Doctor Yok: **Eh, so short... I hadn't meant to cut it down so much. God, I haven't been on this story for FOREVER. So sorry, to everyone. However, I _did _get the chapter up, so that's gotta count for something, right?


	8. Survival

The fight with the raptors was surprisingly short. Zhang nearly got an ear bitten off. And Kojak just about lost a finger. Georgia lost most of her hair, and the Rockbell kids came close to becoming an only child in their own respect several times. However, none of those could beat what happened to Ed.

"Um, Ed, don't move." Zhang held a hand out in front of him, slowly backing away. Edward stood stock still, hearing the sound of heavy breathing behind him. He and the Xingese ambassador had escaped from the main flock by hiding in an alleyway, but it seemed that one of the raptors had sniffed them out. Edward didn't turn around, but it was hard not to. The thing was literally breathing down his neck by now, the condensation trickling down his back in a thick, viscous goo that mingled with his own sweat. Even in the shadow of the alley, it was hot as high noon.

Zhang was glad that Ed couldn't see what was behind him. If he had, he probably would've bolted then and there. The dark-haired man sucked in a big breath, trying to keep from gagging. The creature, which was nearly seven feet tall on all fours, was scaly and smelled like rotted meat. In fact, rotted meat didn't cover it. A more accurate description is 'rotted meat that's been left to sit for a few days inside of a cesspool and then left to dry in the hot sun.' It was, indeed, that disgusting.

The creature itself had wings like a bat. It crawled around on them like an extra pair of arms. It was mottled black and brown, while its underside was a strange shade of gray-blue. The face of the creature was flat with long teeth that were sharp, but not pointed. They fit together like a horse's teeth, and its eyes were beady and clouded. It's nose consisted of two holes in its face, and it was bald as a baby. The head was nearly humanoid in its construction, but all similarity to humans ended there.

The raptor sniffed Edward several more times. It made a clicking noise in the back of its throat as it inspected this new specimen. In its slow, hunger-craven mind, it thought about how strange this thing was. It looked like the things it ate off the desert floor, the thing with two legs and high -pitched voices. However, like its young, it had a pair of wings on its back.

Now, raptors have the worst sight imaginable. They regularly smash into buildings because they had no idea it was there in the first place. They have a habit of mistaking things for something completely different. There was one amusing story that Nirvana recounted only in bar rooms about how one raptor had protected a flight orientation ball for several days because it thought it was an egg. She should recount, however, that raptors don't even lay eggs, so why it was guarding the thing was beyond her comprehension.

Edward made a small sound in the back of his throat as he was nudged forward by the raptor. Zhang had already taken refuge behind a large, metal container roughly shaped like a box (which he'd soon realize was a dumpster), and was giving Ed a, hopefully reassuring, thumbs up. Ed's eye twitched, and it seemed like an eternity had passed. There was another set of tension filled minutes before-

SLURP.

Ed nearly screamed as he was licked from head to toe. Saliva dripped off of his fingers and down his back. The smell was bad enough that bile rose in his throat, but it took everything he had not to throw up. The raptor made a strange cooing noise, and it rubbed its head against Ed's side affectionately. Edward gulped as it licked him again, and he hissed, "Zhang, what is it doing?" The raptor paid no attention as it continued mothering the short, blonde alchemist.

Zhang almost burst out into hysterical laughter. He covered his mouth and nose with his shirt, snickering. He finally got the guts to say, "I think… I think it thinks that you're her baby!" Ed's eye twitched a few more times before he shouted, "WHAT?" This time, the raptor circled Ed and licked him straight up the front. His face was slathered in saliva and bits of the raptor's earlier snack. Edward didn't breathe for fear he'd choke on the spit. He wiped off his face and tried to think of what to do next.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of a gun being cocked. Even after 200 some years, the sound of a gun hadn't changed all that much. Edward's head whipped down the alleyway to see Georgia standing with a large, strange looking rifle in her hands. She was aiming it dead center at the creature behind him. She muttered, "Don't. Move. A muscle." Ed felt all his muscles tightened as he tried not to get in the way of her shot. Zhang was scrambling towards her while the raptor was still being distracted by her 'baby.'

However, before Georgia could squeeze off a shot, the raptor seemed to sense their presence. Her head snapped towards them, and she let out a loud screech. Edward winced at the sound, covering his ears as he heard several windows shatter. Large shards rained down, but he was protected by the bulk of the raptor. Georgia and Zhang, however, didn't get so lucky.

This was how Georgia lost most of her hair. The entire six months it took her to grow it back, she blamed Ed.

Zhang was a bit luckier in the beauty department, scoring only a small scratch which turned into a scar. Even now, he continues to tell girls that he battled a murder of raptors single handedly, and that was his reward for all his hard efforts. Needless to say, not many people believed him. Especially the girls' boyfriends.

Ed found himself up in the air, high above the streets. His wings were being held by the raptor, who was flying away as fast as her own wings would take her. Edward squirmed and wiggled as much as he could, but the wings refused to come free out of the raptor's grasp. Briefly, he saw Kojak and Nirvana running from three more of the ugly creatures, as well as the Rockbell twins defending themselves with a long length of airtech wire. They passed by all too quickly and never spared a glance to the alchemist in the raptor's claws.

Edward looked ahead, and he saw a building. The raptor was coming perilously close to the lip of the top, and Ed suddenly got an idea. If he timed it right, he'd probably break a finger and maybe a leg. If he got it wrong, he'd end up a little grease stain on the ground. He sincerely hoped that he got it right, because if he got it wrong he wasn't sure he'd black out before hitting the pavement.

He undid the straps holding the wings to his body, and he flew out of the raptor's grasp. He flew high up over the lip of the building…and realized too late that he hadn't thought about what would happen if he did it too early.

He blacked out.

* * *

"Edward!"

"Ed!"

"Hey, Shortstuff, where are you?"

"Edward!"

Several of the kidnap party wandered around, shouting out Edward's name. Zhang wrung his hands, and Guun clapped him on the back solidly. Georgia sighed and said, "He can't have gone far." She ran her hand through her now-mangled and blood spattered hair, and she looked around while shading her eyes from the sun. Kojak frowned as he stared at the sky.

"The little dude had wings on him, didn't he? Maybe he flew off," he guessed.

"In that case, you'll need another flyer to look for him," Alice suggested, holding up the pair of wings she'd been in charge of after confiscating them from Nirvana. Said alphysicist was walking around as well, though she didn't shout or yell for their missing comrade. Kojak and Georgia looked at each other, and they wordlessly agreed. They had to find Edward before sun down, dead or alive. Once the sun set, the air would become cold and night creatures would emerge. Edward's body would be gone if he was dead, and he'd freeze to death if he wasn't. The sun wasn't anywhere near that point yet, but it could take them days to go through the entire city. The ruins were a scary place at night, besides. No one wanted to be out and about around then.

The only person who knew the Ruined City better than anyone under the ground was currently a dangerous fugitive that they'd _just _managed to catch. As against letting her go as she was, Georgia knew that Nirvana would keep Edward alive out of a sense of honor if not just to bug the poor guy. Kojak turned to Nirvana, who was smirking. She held out her shackled hands, and Kojak gave her a trying look. Nirvana just answered back with a silent, smug expression.

Kojak sighed and said, "I expect you to be back by eight. If not, then I'm going to look for you." As he said this, he unlocked the malleable metal off of her hands, and they fell like a leaden, liquid weight off her hands. She rubbed them before looking up at Kojak and smirked.

"How, exactly, are you going to find me? Satellites are about to go offline in about ten minutes. I'm not an idiot. They don't have night vision up there, you know, and dark falls pretty fast around six," she said, backing away from Kojak. He only gave her a mysterious little smile, and suddenly he whipped out a small, derringer gun. Nirvana's eyes widened as he shot her point blank in the chest. The bullet was actually not a bullet, of course. It had been a sticky, adhesive with small tracker polymers that could be traced wirelessly from any Commie with the needed program. Even so, the force from the poly-patch coming out of a gun at 320 feet per second is still pretty hard.

Nirvana, who'd been knocked flat to the ground, leapt up in a feat that only an enraged teenaged girl could perform , and shouted angrily, "What the hell was that?" Kojak blew on the barrel of his gun, an old signature move from the early 1900s that he'd seen in vids. He smiled at Nirvana, looking at her from out of the corner of his eye. He put the gun back into his holster, never letting his gaze wander from Nirvana.

The others just watched as he said, "Nothing. Go do your thing, babe. Remember, eight o' clock, young lady." She grumbled something as she left, which earned her a swift zap to the butt with an electric slug. She yelped as she held on to her nether regions, looking at the small, starburst shaped soot mark. She lifted her middle finger at Kojak, but he merely guffawed as she limped towards Willow and snappily took her wings.

Zhang muttered to Richie, "Remind me never to make your big black friend mad. He draws a gun faster than I can eat a bowl of noodles." Guun leaned over Richie's shoulder to add, "And Zhang eats noodles like his life depends on it." He straightened back up behind Richie, and the younger boy gulped. Quite frankly, the larger man scared him just a little. He was too quiet for a guy his size. Zhang looked out of the corner of his eye to Guun and winked with a wicked smile. He loved it when he played the old 'soft foot' trick on foreigners.

Nirvana strapped the newer pair of wings onto her back with easy adjustments, and she looked at Willow as she stared at the workings of the wings. Nirvana shucked the wings on to her shoulders a bit higher, and she asked harshly, "What?" Willow looked up as if jolted out of a reverie, and she immediately pointed to the wings.

"Once you come back, can I take a look?" Alice seemed to magically materialize, causing Nirvana to jump a good couple inches as she gushed, "Me too, me too! I wanna try them out!" She was suddenly dragged backwards by a rather annoyed Imal.

"Over my dead body," he muttered calmly, Alice hanging from his fist. She crossed her arms huffily and retorted, "That can easily be arranged." Georgia, who'd been a few feet away, rolled her eyes and ordered, "Just go already. We don't have all day." Nirvana snapped a quick salute, a cocky look on her face. Georgia gave a smirk of her own, thinking that it was about time she got a bit of respect, but right before Nirvana took off in a flurry of polycarbon plastic sheet and metal, she gave her the finger with a good sticking out of the tongue to boot. Georgia's smirk fell as she angrily yelled, "HEY, BOLTBRAIN-"

Already, it was too late. Nirvana was high in the sky, her boots and the circles etched into the rubber fading as she glided off into the sky over the ruined skeletons of skyscrapers.

* * *

The desolate rooftop was buffeted by the wind, a low moaning reverberating through the entire city as the winds passed through the shells of giants. High above the ground, the rooftop was covered in rubble, and underneath lie concrete. It was understandable that Ed had blacked out the minute he'd dropped nearly fifteen feet on top of it. Said alchemist was currently taking a snooze on the roof, the day's sun already turning his skin a cooked-looking red. He twitched an eyelid, the moaning of the buildings soon being joined by one of his own. He was covered in rubble, dried saliva, and the remnants of things he'd rather not think about.

Ed sat up slowly, wincing as he felt pain lance through his back and legs. He grimaced as he rubbed his head. It seemed that goose eggs were becoming more and more common these days, because a massive one was making its way out of the side of his head. He'd bumped into the ground a bit harder than he'd wanted to. He patted himself down, finding that there were no broken bones, amazingly. He always had had a hard head, and now it was coming in handy. He flexed his automail leg and arm, surprised to find that they'd suffered nothing more than a few dents and some infiltration courtesy of the sand. He shook his hand out as if trying to get something off of it, and sand spilled out from the crevices. He winced as he muttered to himself, "Winry's gonna kill-" He stopped dead in his tracks as memories of the past few days cycled through his mind. In a sort of daze, he walked over to the edge of the building. The ruined city spanned miles upon miles. He could hardly see the end of it in any direction.

Winry was gone. The realization crept up on him. He'd been in a bit of a shock these past days, wandering around in a bit of a haze of immaturity and irritation, trying to run away from the shocking gravity of his situation. He'd never felt so helpless, staring out over what must've been, at one time, a city full of life. It was a dead fossil, now, nothing more than steel struts too stubborn to bend to the force of nature's will. He swallowed as he realized he was never going to see Al smile again, or to have another wrench thrown at his head by an angry Winry. Roy was never going to call him a shrimp, and he'd never tell Jean how he was going to die from those cancer sticks he always had in his mouth.

On that rooftop, he was suddenly wrapped in his thoughts of everyone he knew. How could it be that all those people, the very fabric of his life, were gone? It had boggled him to the point where he'd ignored the fact and kept himself in the denial that one day he'd wake up, and this would all be a bad dream. The pain in his back and legs were definitely real, however, and so was his stink. He sniffed experimentally at his arm, and he turned his face away with a disgusted grimace. He nearly gagged, and he knew that his hair was never going to be the same.

There was the sound of wings flapping, and Ed snapped out of his thoughts of all he'd lost to clap his hands and use the one thing still tying himself to the life he'd had. He transformed his automail into a blade, and looked around for the raptor that, no doubt, still thought he was her baby.

"Like hell, I'm your baby," he muttered as he watched the sky for a ghastly looking reptile falling from the sky. Instead, he caught sight of a pair of sand colored wings with black markings over them flash past overhead so fast he hadn't had time to figure out what it was. He looked around for it, but it had already flown between the buildings again. He frowned, his automail at the ready, when he heard something touch down on the roof. He picked up a piece of pipe he'd seen on the ground and changed it into a gaudy looking spear, chucking it at the noise.

Nirvana deftly bypassed it, though she earned a new rip in her wings in reward for her efforts. She drooped comically as she stared at the rip in her wings, and she moaned, "Awww, look what you did. You know how hard it is put this stuff back together? God, you people, always throwing stuff at me." She took out a Sharpie pen and drew a circle around it before there was a flash of light, and the hole was fixed. Ed blinked at the casual use of alchemy. She was the most accomplished he'd seen so far, though about three other alchemists underground were getting close to her level very quickly.

"All right, come here. I'm supposed to take you back to the PMS queen's guard dog before she decides to pop a vein and go homicidal," Nirvana said in a bored tone, leaning against a pole sticking out of the roof. Ed looked down, and he realized that even if he'd managed to stay up here, how was he supposed to get back to the ground? He was pretty sure he could've parachuted, if you'd given him enough materials, but Nirvana's plan didn't sound so bad.

"I'm guessing you're talking about Georgia," Ed said as he picked through the rubble of the rooftop. He was careful not to step on anything sharp, as his boots were already shredded to the point where he doubted even alchemy could fix them. Nirvana scoffed and said, "No dip." He gave Nirvana a strange look, obviously confused. Nirvana slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand and muttered, "Ah, right, slang's evolved… I was being sarcastic, Mr. 20th Century. Just… just get over here." Ed looked pretty irritated as he sighed. He had lost his flak jacket, and was only wearing his tank top and sand-colored pants. He felt oddly exposed out here on the roof. It seemed this was the highest one around in a twenty mile radius.

"Can you take us both down? I can get down myself," Edward told her, but she shook her head.

"Flying's safer. There are chimeras at ground level. Why do you think I tested this out on a rooftop instead of the ground?" She motioned for him to come over as she took the marker again. Ed sniffed the air, noticing a funny smell. He stared at the marker, and Nirvana caught his glance. She held it up to him and said, "Okay, Lesson One- never forget your Sharpie. It writes on virtually anything." She also took a whiff and said, "Lesson Two- don't sniff Sharpies. That's just asking to turn your brain into cottage cheese. Powerful stuff. Its crack for kids without the dough." She turned her back on Ed as she started to mark stuff out on the wings. He looked over her shoulder to see what she was doing, and Nirvana's nostrils flared as she caught his stench.

She made a disgusted sound, covering her nose with her shirt. She backed away from him, and Ed sweat dropped. She waved a hand in front of her face and gasped, "Bleeding hell, you _stink. _What did you do, take a bath in a cesspool? Simple truth, that's _awful. _Awww, how am I supposed to fly you? You're taking a shower first. I am _not _going to hang on to you for the next hour." Ed rolled his eyes and seethed, "It's not that bad!"

Nirvana scoffed in disbelief. "You could kill my granny with your stink. Hell, if you walk around down there, you might not have to worry about the chimeras. They'll run off with their tails between their legs once they get a whiff of you." Ed tried hard not to transmute her head into a watermelon. Albeit it was hard, he managed. It couldn't be that bad… could it?

By the time they'd gotten back to the rest of the camp, the sun had gone down and the entire entourage was groaning as Ed's aroma wafted towards them on the desert breeze. Most of them had their hands over their noses, and even Kojak was trying to breath through his mouth instead of his nose.

"I didn't know raptor spit could smell so bad," Zhang laughed as he put a scarf over his mouth and nose. The Rockbell twins were wearing surgical masks over their face as Ed spazzed in a hissy fit over the fact that everyone kept commenting on his odor. Both of them snickered and Willow asked, "Raptor spit? How'd that happen?" Zhang smiled, a gleam in his eye as he said, "Well, you see-"

His would-be tall tale was cut short as a boot hit him square in the face. He went down like a sack of sand, and Guun merely watched and sighed. He would've thought the Yao would be better at blocking such an obvious projectile, but once he got a story going, he wouldn't notice anything else. He'd once told an entire folk tale about how he'd defeated a giant fatmouth trout upstream in the mountains while Guun took out nineteen separate enemies around him. The Mei could only shake his head.

Ed stormed towards the Octises and jumped into one of them, closing the shield and pouting. Georgia knocked on the shield with one knuckle as everyone went back to their respective vehicles. Kojak was taking Nirvana considering the fact that Nirvana didn't trust anyone else, and the fact that he'd already slapped the cuffs over her hands. Ed looked up and lifted an eyebrow. Finding the PA button after several minutes, he turned it on and asked gruffly, "What?" Georgia looked in just about worse shape than Ed. Her entire head was bandaged, and tufts of brown hair stuck out in random directions through the white gauze. She said, "Come on out for a minute. I don't want to have to get this thing cleaned out because it stinks so bad. It costs cash, you know." Ed banged his head into the steering gear, and he didn't even care as water squirted from the windshield and cleaned it or that the horn was beeping. This just wasn't his day.

"All right. I'm coming out," he muttered as he got rid of the windshield and climbed out. He stood there and asked, "Now what?"

Suddenly, he was sprayed head -to-toe with a strange foam, turning him into what was essentially a very large snowman of what looked like shaving cream. His eyes were the only thing visible as he narrowed them. The blob of shaving cream turned around to glare at Alice and Willow, who were holding a nozzle together that had come from the Rockbell's Octis. They both high-fived each other before Ed chased after them, bits of foam trailing off from him.

"GRAAAAAH! COME BACK HERE SO I CAN BURY YOU IN THE SAND!" The girls screamed as Ed came looking for vengeance, and Nirvana stared at them with an annoyed, blank look. She sighed and said, "What is that they sprayed, anyways?" Kojak chuckled as he started the Octis.

"It's a cleaning foam. It attracts sand and dirt, but also foreign molecules that have to do with smell. They remember smell just as well as your nose does, so it picks up whatever shouldn't be there. It's handy because it dissolves. Ed'll be wet, but he'll be clean. And Georgia won't have to worry about cleaning the stink out of her Octis." Nirvana rolled her eyes as she mumbled in a mockingly high-pitched, girly voice, "Heaven forbid Georgia lifting a finger to do anything." She gasped theatrically and said, "The poor dear!" She sniffed derisively, and Kojak only chuckled. That was his girl.

* * *

Ed looked out at the moon from his Octis. It seemed so much bigger in the desert, as if it had gotten closer. It's surface seemed so near. The sun had gone over the horizon in a beautiful collision of reds and pinks, orange shading what little cloud cover there had been. He'd never seen a sunset quite like that before. The others seemed just as entranced. Kojak only smiled while Nirvana smirked smugly. Alice was practically jumping out of her Octis, and Imal beheld it with a sense of reverence. Edward himself had climbed on top of his own vehicle and watched. They had stopped to admire the sight before heading on again.

Fierce winds had stopped them from going too far afterwards. A surprise gust of desert driven gales had floored the caravan, and Edward could hear it beginning to wane. Already, it was eight-thirty. They'd been gone for nearly half the day, and he wondered what it must be like for Imal, Alice, and the Twins. They'd never been above the ground, from what he'd heard. The twins acted like they knew what they were doing, but a couple of times he'd watched them argue over something before asking Kojak what to do. Kojak, as experienced as he was, never seemed to tire of the desert, though he was most definitely wary of it.

Suddenly, the sweeping winds that had scoured the desert plains stopped. It was so sudden, so abrupt, that Edward had thought that it was as if the wind had never been there. He frowned, and a voice came over the radio system.

"All right. You can all come out now. It's safe," Georgia's slightly tinny voice permitted before there was a click. Ed pressed a button on his dashboard, and the hood flew back. He looked out with awe. The desert dunes had climbed to epic heights, and the entire landscape had changed. His own Octis was half buried in sand, and he idly wondered how he was going to get it out when he heard a deep groan like some wild animal turning over in its sleep. He automatically turned to the sound, ready to clap his hands, but the only thing he saw were the twins' Octis hauling another buried vehicle out of the sand using a tow cable.

"You can actually pull these things out?" The other Octis pulled free, and Ed half-expected a resounding _pop! _to echo as the sand shifted over the hole it left behind. Zhang and Guun had squished into an Octis with Georgia, and they all clambered out. The twins' hood pulled back, and the two Rockbells chimed, "Yep! These things can pull anything!" There was the sound of an engine being gunned, and an Octis shot over a dune. It landed on the sand, spraying Edward with the small particles. Ed spluttered as he breathed in sand, and Kojak and Nirvana hopped out.

"Sorry, Ed. Didn't meant to splat you," he said with a chagrined chuckle. Nirvana scoffed. She sat in the sand, her hands on her knees as she looked at the twenty to thirty foot tall dunes that surrounded them. She whistled low as she looked up at the blackened sky. The stars were all out, and Ed looked up in awe.

"Would you stop fragging already? Help us set up camp!" Georgia shouted. Ed jerked out of his entranced sight, and he looked at her in confusion, but before he could ask, she was already walking off. He almost had question marks around his head. Nirvana rolled her eyes at him.

"Gods, you're a dinosaur... She means that you need to stop standing there and doing nothing. Fragging comes from the term defragmenting. You defrag a computer to make it go faster. She wants you to stop staring at every speck of dust there is, and get a move on," she said. Ed looked back at her, blinking several times before he cautiously said, "Thank you." The girl looked at him with a haughty expression before answering, "Don't mention it." She got up and started towards Georgia with jittered steps. As she passed by him, she muttered, "And I seriously mean _don't mention it." _Ed narrowed his eyes at the back of her head. He walked off as he watched her climb a dune. She sat there in the bright light of the moon as they set up camp, which consisted of folding sections of their Octises out to create beds and a covering of thin, light metal anchored into the ground with special weights and a tarpaulin-like material stretched over it.

Edward got settled into his own 'tent' of sorts, and he began to drift in his thoughts. He could hear the Twins giggling as they talked to each other incessantly, and Imal and Alice were strangely silent, though lights shown from their tent. There was a single lantern of ultra-phosphor in each of their tents. The phosphor inside of the lantern charged when exposed to the light of the bright, desert sun. It charged very quickly, and it was handy because anything with a light could charge it to full power within ten minutes. Georgia was already asleep, from the sound of her raucous snoring. Edward turned on his side, facing the opening of his tent. The moonlight was bright enough to seep underneath the taurpalin that was anchored to the sand, and he could see a shadow as something passed over the area. Slowly, the night animals made their dark noises to one another, jackals baying and insects clicking somewhere in the sand, far away...

Ed sat up in bed all of a sudden, and it became apparent to him that he'd dozed. He rubbed his eyes, realizing that some sand had caked over his eyes in the night. He poked his head out of the tent to find that the moon was low on the horizon, the tip barely brushing the sandy line where the earth curved away. He felt himself awed for a moment as he looked up at the myriad of stars. In Central, it was so bright the stars were blotted out. All you saw was a dark haze of orange-white mixed in with dark, dark gray. He felt as if he could touch the heavens and realign the stars, and somehow control his fate through their shapes and lines. A feeling of solemnity covered him as he listened to the desert. It was full of life, as barren as it seemed.

He heard the shift of sand, and he frowned as he turned towards the noise. It wasn't anywhere near him. Under the moon, all things were visible as if seen within daylight. Shadows were elongated, creating eerie shapes, and they seemed to move as Ed saw them out of the corner of his eye. He walked over the sand on unsteady, sleeping feet as he followed the sounds of swishing earth. It was a strange rhythm of movement, as if somewhere were-

Ed scrambled up over a dune and looked out. Underneath, in the shadow cast by the long eye of the moon, he could see that Nirvana was doing... well, something. She swept down with her fingers over the sand, and it moved with her, drawing a sort of cloak around her, but as soon as it reached three feet, it would fall. She stamped her foot in frustration, and he could hear her muttering curses under her breath as she did it again and again, each time her frustration hindering her cause as the sand fell at shorter and shorter intervals. Ed frowned as he stood up on the dune and watched with blatant curiosity. She was trying to do alchemy... but a very high level kind, something Edward could do with ease only because of practice and much thought on the matter.

Alchemy was not like alphysics- not in the least. Whereas the laws of physics were bended and molded to shape the weilder's wishes, alchemy must follow a set guideline that cannot go against the laws of matter. As much as a person would which to turn a silver dollar into a gold dollar, alchemy couldn't make it happen. If you wanted a diamond out of a lump of coal, that was easy enough. What Nirvana was trying to do was move the sand into a structure that would move as she bid it, using minute changes in the formula to cause it to seem like it was moving. However, Edward had found that this was much harder to do with a circle because of the constant change of the material you were working with versus whatever medium you were using at the time. Using his arms as a 'circle' made this type of alchemy much easier because the formula that was 'written' on his arms were really in his head, and they became easier to move and change as he wished.

Nirvana obviously didn't have this knowledge, and it made him smirk. He knew it was wrong to feel superior to her just because of a simple gap of knowledge (they're last real alchemist had been Alphonse, after all, nearly two hundred years ago), but this was the same girl who'd wrestled him to the ground, called him a bolthead, and plain out insulted his intelligence at every chance she got. A man would take what he could get.

"Having trouble?" he shouted. Nirvana froze in mid-stance, and she slowly turned around to look at Ed. In the shadow of the dune, he couldn't see her face, but he knew that there was probably an annoyed sneer on her face. The alphysicist cocked a hip and stood up straight. She shouted back, "Yeah. It's standing up on top of this dune." Ed's smirk fell, and he clambered down the dune in an ungainly fashion. He slid down finally after getting the hang of steering himself, and he reached Nirvana with a slip of sand. She raised an eyebrow at him as he dusted himself off. She cocked her head to the side and asked, "What? You're going to actually do something? As far as I can tell, you haven't done anything since Little Miss By-The-Book Georgia found you locked in a safe like a retard." Ed's eyes narrowed, and he suddenly clapped his hands.

Nirvana had already jumped away from him, but a large column of moving sand shot up out of the ground. It writhed like a living thing, blotting out the moon as it morphed slowly into a dragon's head. Its bulbous eyes stared down at Nirvana and her awestruck expression as it opened its jaws, teeth like filed points seeming to glint. It froze in that position, a fearsome monument of sand. Edward stood behind it with a sullen look on his face. He suddenly patted it with his metal hand, and the dragon moved again into the ground like a serpent, its tail flashing as all of it went back to whence it came.

Edward dusted off his hands as he looked at the spot where his creation had disappeared. He gave Nirvana a hard look, her still slightly awed face fixated on him with emotions equal part envy, rage, and determination. He strode across the sand to her, and Nirvana backed up a few paces. Ed grabbed on of her wrists and yanked it up to her face. He asked, "How did you get out of your cuffs?" Nirvana seemed to regain some of her bluster, scoffing and asking, "You still call them cuffs? You really are a dinosaur." Ed rolled his eyes, and he shoved her hand towards her face. She resisted, but it succeeded in making her move backwards towards the wall of the dune.

"How did you get out of them? And why haven't you left?" These questions had run through his head immediately after seeing her playing with the sand. She looked off in a different direction, sullen. She finally muttered, "Kojak bribed me. Said if I stayed, I could have this late 20th century book on alphysics. Besides, I can get out of anything. It wasn't any use to put those retarded things on me." Suddenly, a rustle of sound caught their ears and they looked up at the top of the dune. A shadow was cast up above it, and they could see Alice's outline against the moonlight.

The teenager was wearing pajamas with ducks imprinted on them (it seemed that this particular fad never faded out...), and she stage-whispered, "What are you guy's doing? You almost woke up Georgia! Do you know how hard that i?" Nirvana rolled her eyes and whisper-shouted, "Shut up! _You're _the one who's going to wake up the entire camp with your messaging signals." Alice pouted exaggeratedly, and she stuck out her tongue. Edward rolled his eyes, and he said, "You would think that the two of you were related." Nirvana scoffed.

"As if." She jerked her wrist out of Ed's grasp as he let her go. She stumbled back a few paces, but righted herself with the balance of a person who was easy with the sand. Suddenly, a sound ripped through camp. It was high pitched and whining, skimming the air with electric-brush fine strokes of blaring sound. Ed looked around for the source of the noise, but Nirvana was already scaling the wall of sand, Alice gasping as she started to run back to the caravan. Edward, still perplexed and lost as to what that noise was, stood there for a moment before a hand nearly yanked him into the sand.

"Idiot! Hurry it up and get to your Octis before the freaking drones find you!" Nirvana hissed. Edward had no idea what was going on, but he'd followed their directions this long and lived. He guessed following this set wasn't going to kill him. They raced up the dunes to find that all of the Octises and their tents were folded up neatly as well as toned down to a rich tan color. Ed frowned as Nirvana drug him over to his own Octis, which was still unfolded with its tent and shield down. She pressed a button on the underside, and it suddenly sprang around to come together. As soon as it was back in its vehicular form, Nirvana shoved Edward into it, nearly slamming his head into the windshield.

"Hey-!" he protested, but Nirvana was already climbing into the thing with him. His particular model had been designed for one person of any size, and two people of a small size could probably fit in one if they really squished. Being two full grown teenagers, the both of them were particularly cramped. The shield snapped all the way back to cover the two of them, and Nirvana quickly reached over Ed to the dash, typing a quick succession of orders into the screen. The windshield very suddenly went dark, and the only light to be seen was the glow of the dashboard. Ed could hear Nirvana's labored breathing as well as his own. What was going on?

"What... the hell are drones?" Ed finally asked after several minutes of tense silence with the both of them jammed in the vehicle. Nirvana swallowed and answered, "Robots." Ed didn't look all that enlightened, so Nirvana elaborated a bit.

"They're autonomous machines with programs like Gram for a brain. They are given a single objective- to find and destroy Oasis. Of course, they never succeeded, but they're always on our guard. Whenever caravans like this go outside, they have to camo ourselves for a little while when those things go over. They have eyes better than a human, and they see way more than we do, right down to heat signature and false-color images. Countless Octises and people were lost when those damn things were invented," Nirvana said bitterly, looking up to where the sky would've been had they not been in their Octis.

Ed shifted in his seat so he was sitting with his back to the right side of the windshield. Nirvana was sitting farther back than he was, facing the opposite direction. She was facing him, her legs drawn up to her chest, and she looked strangely haunted in the green light of the dash's glow-in-the-dark panel. As time dragged on in silence, Ed studied the girl across from him with a critical eye. For a girl who'd been living in the desert, she didn't look very tan, but that may have been the effect of the lighting. Her hair was shorter than the last time he'd seen her nearly three days ago, and her eyes were directed towards her hands as she played with her shirt hem. Her clothes were torn and threadbare, though not overly so. He couldn't tell how thin she was, but he figured she was in good health if she still managed to crash him into that building.

Suddenly, Nirvana shifted to lean over Ed again, and he tried to avoid contact with her as she started to tap out something on the dashboard. He watched as the screen lit up, and a field of green and black appeared. A grid of color overlayed it before showing five red triangles moving over a group of five or six X's marked in blue. Her eyes were sharp as she widened the field of vision before doing something strange. She brought up the keyboard, and Ed watched as she typed furiously with lightning fast strokes of her fingers. He could smell her she was so close, and the strange scent of clean sand and human assailed him. He watched the screen as she typed line upon line of code over turned on the screen in a line of white letters.

"What are you doing?" he asked as he sat up straight to get a better look. It looked like complete gibberish to him, with strange characters almost every couple of words. It was built in strange style of line, ending in an abrupt sort of ordered chaos. Nirvana was so focused that she didn't answer him at first. As Edward stared at the words, he realized that some of them had the same words with indented phrases afterwards in a sort of list. She finally said, "I'm trying to hack one of the drones. They all have programs, and any program can be hacked to do anything you want. No one's broken through a drone's wormwall, though. I'm trying to get through it right now, but it's being a sucker to get out of. Ed, get me an Airwear, could you?" Ed, having no idea what _anything _was, gave Nirvana a helpless look. Hearing nothing but stunned silence, Nirvana figured Ed had had some sort of informational breakdown or something, and she decided to put this into simpler terms.

"Get the earpiece from under the dash. You can't miss it. It sticks out. It's near my left knee." Edward, for once understanding the brand of Amestrian she was speaking, felt underneath the dash for said earpiece, and brought up a slim piece of silver-black metal. It didn't look like much, and he wondered was he was supposed to do with it when Nirvana ordered, "Put it on my neck." Edward looked at her as if she'd grown a second head.

Nirvana, still furiously typing, grumbled, "If you stick it there, it'll stay. I promise. Now if you would put the damn thing on me, I'll explain everything after I get this drone." Edward stuck the thing to Nirvana's neck, and he asked, "Okay, start explaining. I'd like to know why I'm cramped up in this stupid thing with you in the first place." She rolled her eyes, never ceasing her typing. Updates in green intermittently interrupted the code of gibberish. Every now and again, a piece of red line would cross over, and Nirvana would suddenly get a little nervous.

"I'm trying to take control of this thing. I'm only the third best hacker around here. The first would be in the Octis about two doors down," she muttered before suddenly letting out a prolonged hum. The light on the small piece of metal glowed a light green before switching to a cool blue, and Ed had the urge to ask her what it was when she asked, "Hey, you reading me?"

The PA suddenly responded with Alice's voice, saying, "Yeah, I hear you. Speaker all right with you?" Ed realized that the little piece of metal was actually a sort of phone. He wanted to rip it off of Nirvana's neck and examine it, but he had the feeling she wouldn't take that too well. In fact, his very _presence _annoyed her, so what was the point? Nirvana answered, "Don't care. Which 'droid you attacking?"

"Number 55AFM."

"I'm on Number 56AFM. Get Imal on that other one, see if you can't-" Ed noticed that the screen was steadily filling up with red writing, and he said hesitantly, "Uh... hey, this thing doesn't look good." Ed tapped the screen, and Nirvana cursed vehemently.

"Ugh! Mean words, Nirvana, mean words."

"Shut up, Alice, and get rid of the trick on this stupid 'droid!" She tore off the little piece of metal, and Ed managed to take it before she could throw it on the floor and completely decimate it. Ed examined it thoroughly, wondering at it. It wasn't even a centimeter thick. He couldn't figure out how to make it stick to skin, either, and there didn't seem to be a speaker or anything on it. He frowned at it, and he clapped it between his hands. There was a short flash, and it came apart in his hands, and Ed smiled- well, that was, until it crumbled to dust in his fingers. His face turned white, and he glanced over at Nirvana with apprehension. If she found out that he broke this... He started to sweat bullets, and he shook a bit for a moment before the tapping on the screen ceased abruptly.

Ed looked back at Nirvana, who was looking to the sky as if waiting for something. Her face was tense and drawn, a strange pallor of green reflecting off of the screen. There was nothing but the sound of her breathing, and Ed finally asked, "What? What's going on?" Nirvana held up a finger, the one digit trembling slightly as both of them waited. Ed also looked up, though there was nothing but the darkened windscreen of the Octis.

"... Is there something-?" Ed's words were cut off as suddenly the entire vehicle flew sideways, and the two of them rattled in it like pebbles in a tin can. As the vehicle settled in the sand, Ed shouted, "What the hell was that!" So far twice today, he'd been thrown and knocked around, and this was just the final straw. Nirvana, however, didn't offer much by explanation, pounding on the 'open' button on the Octis' dashboard, and the two of them spilled out of the entire thing.

"Just run, all right? We have to-" Nirvana's words were drowned out as a deep thrum filled the air completely. The others were also running, but to where was anyone's guess. Edward looked around for the source of the sound, and he found them right above his head. There were strange, ovular machines in the air with small, stubby wings protruding from their sides.

"That... isn't good, is it?" Ed dove into the sand as the humming intensified, and suddenly a large hole appeared out of nowhere on the ground beside him. He shouted and flailed backwards. The hole was so neat and precise, it was as if some cookie-cutter had taken it out of the ground. Seeing Nirvana out of the corner of his eye, he ran after her, but the sound of the thrumming behind him made the back of his neck prickle with discernation.

Another hole appeared, and a scream erupted as Ed rolled forwards into the sand. He scrabbled away, and the drones continued to tail several moving figures in the sand. Ed looked up to see that a drone was hovering over him not twenty feet away, and he knew that he was in trouble. Whatever these things were, they meant business. Especially considering what they'd done to his _foot. _

He'd been lucky- they'd only managed to get his automail foot, not his regular one. Who knew what would've happened. Edward watched as the thing neared, and he tensed. That was it. No more playing the helpless little time traveler who had to be dragged like unwanted luggage. It was about time things changed. Determination set into his face as he looked up defiantly at the machine hovering overhead. It wanted to play patty-cake? Oh, they'd play patty-cake. Edward clapped his hands, and placed them on the sand.

Like a tidal wave, it loomed over the machine, and it seemed to suddenly dilate. The inside of it spiraled outwards to create a hole inside of the machine, and the sand engulfed it. A large hole appeared inside of the wave, but the sand continued to bowl over the machine as if it were a tsunami of water taking down a tree. Edward coughed as the sand settled, and he vehemently hoped that this had done the trick. It would've been awfully annoying otherwise.

He heard the low thrum again, and he was suddenly tackled as another hole appeared where he'd been standing. Zhang shouted at him, "What are you doing? Do it again, whatever it was!" Ed didn't need to be told twice, and yet another drone was buried in sand. He stood up, brushing himself off as the Xingese emissary looked around nervously. A whirring took over the air, and Zhang and Edward ducked as they were buffetted by a wild, rude wind. Beyond them, they could see specks in the distance rushing off to who knew where. They breathed hard before both collapsed into sitting positions on the dunes.

"Are you hurt?" Edward asked Zhang, looking around for the others. The other boy's hair was mussed, and a large gash on his forehead was all that denoted that anything at all had happened. Zhang shook his head and gasped for air. That had been the one of the most terrifying moments of his life... Zhang swallowed hard and looked behind him. Edward did the same, and he was amazed.

The sand was riddled with holes. Everywhere, holes drilled into the ground. The others were mere specks between the dunes as they came out of their hiding places. Ed started to get up, but his leg gave out as he yelled out in surprise. He looked down and saw that his metal foot was missing. He'd momentarily forgotten about it, and he wondered what, exactly, had happened to it. He stood back up, careful to lean on his remaining foot, and Zhang helped him with a shoulder under his arm. Kojak ran up to the two and said, "The 'droids that came after us are probably beaming our positions right now. We'll have to move, and soon. Neither of you are hurt too bad, right?" Both shook their heads, and Kojak sighed gratefully.

"Thank the Lord Almighty. We have some good news, at the least," Kojak said, relieved. He looked back, and his face tightened. Everyone was getting back into their Octises, and it was clear that they had plenty injured. Willow was crying out as her twin carried her to their Octis, her leg severed at the knee. Georgia was helping Guun back, as the Xingese man had twisted his ankle falling down a slope, though that fall had saved his life. Alice and Imal looked relatively all right, but they were banged up and bruised. Even in the pale light, Ed could see the blood that splattered the sand in blotches of black. Nirvana was walking across the sand with a fatigued walk, stumbling across the sand. She looked almost sickly in the light of the moon.

"What're our casualties?" Georgia asked as those that were able started righting their Octises. Ed helped with a rather large hand of sand here and there, and Kojak watched them carefully. Willow was being taken care of, and so was Guun. He said, "Ed lost his metal foot, and Willow's been hit. Guun has a twisted ankle, but you already know that. Zhang's got a gash that he'll probably break into a story somehow, and Richie's in shock for a while. He'll need counselling after this." Georgia's mouth twisted into a snarl as she looked at Nirvana. The girl was fixing Ed's Octis, which she would, no doubt, use as her own once they got going. Georgia spat out, "Your golden girl's obviously fine." Kojak's stare was blank as he silently looked at Georgia with a fixed gaze. The woman looked at him with equal resolve, and it was several moments before Kojak said, "She's been dodging them for a long time." Georgia scoffed.

The woman loaded up her gun's chamber with a number of shock cartridges as well as a few 'whammies.' Those were ultra-high frequency slugs that would resonate upon hitting a target and immediately incapacitate them. The science department had taken dozens upon dozens of trials with it because of problems with accidentally knocking out the _sender _as well as the _receiver. _Georgia, so far, was the only one who could use it considering her sharpshooting abilities. She shook her head and said, "She shouldn't be out here. She should be with _us. _I still don't know why you won't just let me zap her ass and stick her into one of the trunks." Kojak shot a dirty look at Georgia, and for once she shut her mouth for a few seconds and kept her thoughts to herself. Kojak turned back to look across the sand.

"You know why we can't do that. It nearly killed her to be in those hand cuffs. Even with full range of movement, she's antsy just being around us," Kojak said quietly under his breath. Georgia rolled her eyes.

"You baby her."

"She's tougher than you think."

"Hell, if she was, she'd just join us. That damn shorted head of hers."

Kojak sighed as he crossed his arms. He turned contemplative and looked away. Georgia cocked her head to the side in his direction with an expression that said, 'really? You're not serious.' Knowing she'd get nowhere, she put up her hands and shook her head.

"Whatever. I'm going to get my Octis before it gets buried. I'm getting nervous with Ed slinging all this sand around. Can't say he isn't a multi, though," she said as she walked back to her vehicle. Kojak watched her go before turning his head in Nirvana's direction. The girl was boarding the Octis with Ed, who was stumbling to keep up with her considering his lack of a foot. He yelled something at her, and they started to banter with one another before Nirvana stomped off towards him and drug him behind her. Kojak sighed.

He'd known this was going to be a long night.


	9. Doubt

D O U B T 

Edward stared at the far wall, the lights in his room darkened. There was nothing to see other than the utter darkness that always followed nine o' clock exactly, plunging the entire world into a blackout that can only be achieved hundreds of feet beneath the ground. It suddenly felt very oppresive down here in the barracks, and even the steady, even sound of Kojak's breathing couldn't block out the feeling that the world was coming down on top of him. It was strange that Ed hadn't thought about the thousands upon thousands of tons of bedrock above his head, how he'd never contemplated just what would happen should the supports fail. Having had a taste of the air outside, the underground felt alien and disorienting all over again. It was like being entombed alive, and Edward realized just why Nirvana might hate this place.

His thoughts rewound to the events of the previous day before all the other madness had ensued. That night, they'd been lucky. In fact, they'd been incredibly lucky. Normally entire teams were wiped out by drones, flattened into the ground by those strange weapons that cut the desert floor like cookie cutters into the fine sand. Sweat accumulated in the small of his back. Even thinking about those dreadful machines that had somehow managed to find and attack them brought on an animal panic he couldn't seem to fight down. His thoughts always followed the trail from the point of the machines to the devastation they could create. Willow's sheared off leg came to mind, and Edward had the urge to throw up then and there. The image of that bloody limb, missing half of the calf and the entirety of the ankle and foot, brought back so many memories of his own folly, though the amputation of his own limbs came by a different means. Ed swallowed, scared of what sort of nightmares he may have now. The dreams of his mother now follow with the imagined deaths of Alphonse and Winry, as well as the atrocities that had happened as of late.

Finally, Edward couldn't take it. The dark room was too punishing. The horrible feeling of being buried alive was engulfing him. He needed air. He needed space. Though the barrack wasn't cramped, it was generally close in terms of size. There was enough room for the both of them to be comfortable under normal circumstances, but Ed's circumstances happened to be the exception at the moment. After stumbling around in the dark, Ed found the door knob (which was a strange, long shape, not at all the knoblike device he was used to) and he pushed out into the hall. Strip lights in the floor glowed an almost bioluminescent greenish yellow, just barely lighting the way down the corridors of the barracks that were located on the center of the Oasis compound, wrapping around the Hole at its highest level. The corridor had a low ceiling at nearly six and a half feet, and the width was also slightly pressed at a scant four feet, allowing perhaps two people shoulder to shoulder. Ed's sense of being trapped only mounted as he hurried down the lengths of so many corridors lit by eerie illumination. He finally reached the large doors that marked the exit. He opened the door to come out to a walkway that went as far as the lip of the Hole.

The Hole was big enough, and the rest of the compound ventilated well enough, that a breeze could pass through beneath the ground. Though it only gave the semblance of open air, the vast space of emptiness that was the giant hole was enough for Edward to be satisfied. His claustrophobia fading, he frowned. What was he going to do now? He knew that going to sleep was not an option. He walked towards one of the eleven giant elevators that the Hole featured. They were ingeniously built so that they could split into another eleven separate elevators by themselves, each with the ability to hold nearly twenty people. At night, the number of elevators running was almost the same as the day, and there were plenty other elevators through out the compound, though the Hole's elevators were probably the most efficient and well maintained. Ed followed a crowd of farmers who passed by the barracks to the elevator, which was made completely of glass right down to the five-inch thick glass that made up the floor. If anything could get rid of his claustrophobia, it was that elevator.

Ed steeled himself as he got into it. Memories of a blood-spattered Willow going into one of the clear glass boxes ran through his mind as she was rushed to the medical sector of the compound, and he swallowed as sweat broke out on his hands and his forehead. The farmers that were pressed in on almost all sides passed furtive, though secretive, glances at the strange looking alchemist. His long hair and tan skin stood out in this group of short, dark-haired men with stark pale complexions. There were very few in the compound who had as dark skin as Ed or Nirvana, and even Nirvana was stretching it. Kojak was an incredible anomaly underneath the ground, though Edward had caught a glimpse of several more dark-skinned fellows as well. Ed caught the looks of the farmers, and he stared at them unabashedly, almost daring them to say something or ask a question. They immediately averted their eyes to the floor or to the walls. Ed tried his hardest not to look at the floor as they went down. He didn't even bother to press a button. He would get off where he pleased, just to wander around. In fact, if he got lost, he wouldn't mind it. Not one bit.

For several minutes, Edward rode the elevator, just looking out the glass to the bright lights that lit the hole and the walkways that led down through the entire compound. His eyes scanned the multitude of levels without even noticing any of it, his brain hardly registering what his eyes were sending back to it. Ed needed to lose himself in something, anything at all. He had not allowed himself to become accustomed to all this information and knowledge, to all of this... this... this _future _he was trapped in. Ed realized that he was obsolete, and besides his alchemical knowledge, he was completely useless as a person in this age of technology. A wave of despair broke over him, and before he could stop it, a tear slid down his face. His reflection stared back at him- alien and familiar all at once, a person from a different time who'd stepped, somehow, into a horrific, post-apocalyptic future. He leaned his forehead against the wall of the elevator, his eyes strangely empty as he stared down at the large gaping hole beneath his feet.

"Edward Elric, you have been standing inside of this elevator for ten minutes. Is there something wrong? Do you need assistance?" Program asked in an uncharacteristically cool and softened tone. He sniffed and answered quietly, "No, Program. I don't need assistance." There was a pause before the computer program suddenly interjected, "My scans say otherwise. There is an intake of saline in the elevator vent, denoting tears as well as a lethargic brainwave movement. Your chemical balance is currently out of equilibrium, denoting some sort of depression or other-" Edward got out of the elevator before Program could continue. Out of all the people who could help him, Program was probably the last he'd have expected. It was just too strange. It was too unfamiliar.

When Ed finally stopped, he realized that he had stormed out of the elevator with no regards as to where he was at all. He'd simply gotten off at a random floor and walked into the hall. Now that he looked, he could see the marker that ran across the top of the wall, an electronic band of flashing code showing exactly what level he was on. It ran across the entire corridor, endlessly through out the level. All levels had this marker, just in case someone got lost, though that was a rare occurrence considering everyone who was here had resided inside of the compound since birth. This level was one of the Sub-Terras, the lowest that were beneath the public sector. He'd arrived on Level 3, Sector 5, Hallway 59. He had no idea what that meant, and he wandered for a bit. The walls changed from rough rock and concrete to smooth porcelain as he continued, and instinct led him deeper into the level. He didn't know why, but there was something familiar, a sort of dejavu, almost...

He passed by a hallway with a large floor-to-ceiling glass window. He hardly even noticed it as he passed by until he finally caught the glare of a light bouncing off towards him. He did a double take as he stared into a large room full of what looked like large vials. He slowly walked up to the glass and put his hands to them, staring in at the room. It was probably the width of a football field and the length of two. The room was not lit other than a soft, green light that glowed seemingly from the inside of the tubes. Row upon row of vials that were as thick as Ed was around the waist, most of them half his height stacked one on top of the other. Inside where jelly-like balls bouncing on the inside bathed in a steady stream of bubbles. However, it was what floated inside of these bubbles that caught his attention.

Babies. The entire room was filled with babies.

He walked over to a door almost unconsciously. The door, however, had no handle, and Ed was momentarily confused before Program's avatar appeared in the wall behind him.

"You are unauthorized to be in the Incubation Chamber, Edward. It is for geneticists and caretakers only," she said.

"It's okay, Gram. Let him in. I'll show him around." A new voice caused Ed to turn towards the sound. A woman with a boyish haircut walked down the hall in a white coat, blue jumpsuit, and close-fitting slippers with rubber soles. Her face was all sharp curves and softened angles. Her hair was a dark, dark brown that almost seemed ebony under the lighting. She had a confident aura about her as she walked, a quiet radiance of calm. He stared at the newcomer as Gram seemed to vacillate this response. Finally, the computer program asked, "What is your authorization code?" The woman seemed to merely stand there staring at the wall before blinking twice, then three times. The door behind Ed whooshed to the side, a soft hiss escaping. Ed turned to see that the door led into what appeared to be an airlock. He was cautious about entering, but the other woman entered without hesitation. Deciding that it was probably safe to do so, Ed walked in with her, wondering who exactly she was and what she was doing. She suddenly handed him a blue jumpsuit identical to hers. It was made of some sort of material that was like paper, only more flexible and not quite as rough. He put it on, asking, "What's this for?"

The woman answered, "It's for sterilization. There are microbiotic organisms that live on your skin, and they can be potentially harmful to the fetuses. These suits have a special chemical compound that traps them. Don't worry- you'll get them back." Ed looked at her with a strange look, but at the sight of her smiling he realized that this was a joke. He smiled weakly, seeing as he hadn't understood a lot of what she'd said, and he was still slightly shocked and confused by the sight of all those babies floating in tubes. The woman pressed a big red button on the wall, and a laser light ran over the entire room. Ed jumped slightly upon seeing it. He turned to the woman after a beat and asked, "More sterilization?" She smiled and nodded.

"Yes. This is to prevent bacteria from getting inside of the room itself from the outside. This entire room is now sterilized, and it'll stay that way until we walk back out," she explained. Finally, she submitted her eyeblinking code, and the door whooshed open again. She walked into the dark room full of green-lit tubes, calmly weaving in and out tubes as if this were a forest made of tubes. Ed warily came out, not truly understanding what exactly was happening. Babies in tubes... How could they recreate human life? Was this some giant test or experiment? What the hell was going on here?

Still, he couldn't say that being inside of the room full of tanks wasn't slightly calming. The green light emitted from the tubes seemed to give the place the idea that it was bigger than it looked, which was already big to start with. He couldn't see the ceiling as it was too dark, and the sight of all this _life _seemed slightly rejuvenating, if slightly creepy. He wandered along after the strange woman who had spoken before, sneaking glances at all the tubes. As he progressed farther back, he noticed that the stages of development backtracked towards embryo. He tried to look for the glass window that had led him here, but he couldn't find it in the dark. It must've been a one-way, to prevent light from coming in.

"What's all of this for?" Ed asked simply, nearly jumping as his words echoed. The woman was currently checking a pad with a glowing blue screen that she scanned over each of the tubes. She turned back to look at Ed, and he suddenly noticed that she had startlingly golden eyes. She smiled and said, "You're probably confused by all this. In vitro and test tube babies probably were after your time, am I correct?" Ed nodded. The woman checked something on the pad before nodding satisfactorily. She pushed to ends of the pad together, collapsing it into a stick of blue metal that fit easily into her pocket. Ed would never tire of the tech they had around here...

"You must understand that humankind has moved forwards. You've already witnessed many accounts of that, within our libraries, technology, and language. However, there are some things we could not stop. We _are _currently at war, Mr. Elric, and that is why you are seeing in front of you all of this. These embryos and fetuses- they are our future. Mankind rests in this place. Should this chamber be destroyed... all free humankind will be decimated," the woman said softly as she fondly touched one of the tubes. The unborn child inside almost seemed to respond, jerking in its containment bubble as it moved its new muscles. It settled back down. The woman looked down with a sad look, and Ed still felt out of the loop.

And suddenly, it hit him like a ton of bricks. He hadn't even known this was possible. He'd never thought that someone could artificially start a human life. It was impossible. But, technically, he'd read, it is possible to remove the two gametes and join them outside of the body, but it was a highly controversial thought that had been regarded as almost heretical to the general populace. What other reason would people go to such extremes unless-

"All of you are unable to reproduce, aren't you?" Ed asked in awe, his gold eyes meeting the other two gold eyes staring back. The woman slowly nodded. She pulled out the stick of metal, and she pulled it apart. A screen appeared in between the two pulled apart pieces, and she tapped it a few times before typing something in. As she typed, she said, "In 1987, Patron City, formerly known as Central City, executed a biological attack on the compound. Oasis survived the onslaught of the disease, which we named Bloodspotting, but the infections that had occurred primarily were carried by the bloodstream. Almost all women in the compound became infertile and unable to bear children." She handed Ed the glowing, blue pad and he stared at it for a few moments. The picture was a full color digigraph of three women, all of them covered in small red spots that appared to be beneath the skin. Ed wanted to stare at the digigraph longer considering the very resolution was phenomenal, not to mention the look of the disease itself, but the woman took it back.

"But that was just one generation. What happened?" Ed asked. He scratched the back of his head as he looked around the entire room. All of this, a way for humankind to survive...

"We already had in vitro fertilization- that is, we could take the sperm and egg of two people and join them specifically before putting the egg back. After that, it was all up to the mother. However, our bodies had suddenly become an unfit environment to sustain a life inside of us. We took drastic measures. Those women who were still fertile and able to support life were immediately told to have children should our plan fail. We managed to create children by doing the same process as in vitro- save for one step. Instead of returning the egg to the mother, we put the egg inside of an artificial womb." Edward chewed it over. He knew the general how of pregnancy, and all that other crap he'd never paid attention to during a military health class he'd been forced to take because of Roy and his idiotic obsession with making him suffer (okay, so maybe this was a bit of an exaggeration). However, he was good at genetics... well, the basics of genetics, he guessed, considering they'd gone way past what he'd already read about it at the moment. Still, there was still that question on his mind.

"That doesn't make sense, though. You managed to do this. Why didn't you just pick back up where you left off with the next generation? Couldn't you have managed to do that?" Ed asked. He blushed as he had a passing thought of what that must've entailed at the time, and wondered for a moment why he was even having this conversation. However, the answer was simple: he was curious.

The woman gave a sheepish look. "The damage was done. By the time we had enough boys and girls to start another generation, this defect became an inherent gene. Soon, our infertility rating skyrocketed as more and more people went with the in vitro process. We... we lost our capacity to have children naturally. Everything that was meant to be performed by the human body-" She broke off to look at the baby floating right next to her. A longing look took over her expression. "- must now be done through technology. It's a horrible fact of life." Ed watched her carefully, noting just how strong that hope was inside of the woman. He'd never thought of it. He'd never _had _to think of it. He was too young to have children, to be utterly honest, and the thought had never crossed his mind- what if you could never have children? Remembering an incident that had occurred at Winry's, he knew the answer.

Winry had been twelve. Edward, the same. Alphonse was eleven. They'd just started their journey, but Edward got a port infection, and it had to be treated. While staying at her house for recuperation, a woman had come by for a tune up. As Winry's grandmother worked on the woman, Ed noticed that her eyes were puffy and red as if she'd been crying. He hadn't thought much of it, and hadn't bothered to ask anything of her. He knew her by face, if not by name, and they'd seen her plenty of times before. Finally, Grandma Pinako asked the woman, Sherry, what was wrong. The woman confessed that she'd just been to the doctor and learned that she was sterile. Something about her tubes being too narrow, or her hips, something along those lines. Edward had been confused.

"Why was she crying, then? Why not just adopt?" Ed asked. He had yet to fully appreciate the intricacies of life and the miracle that went into creating a human being. He himself had attempted by a roundabout way that had resulted in the destruction of his leg. The reason behind the woman's apparent sorrow didn't make much sense. Winry glared at Ed, and he gave her a perplexed look. Winry rolled her eyes and muttered, "You've got the emotional capacity of a teacup." He gave an indignant look, shooting her an expression that could only be taken as wounded pride. Winry suddenly got a soft look as she said,"The power women have isn't a whole lot when it comes to things like the mechanical world, or doctoring, or things like that. Sure, we've got a lot more power than we had, but we're still a step below men in a lot of areas. Yet... at the same time, we're the most powerful beings on the planet. We can carry life." Winry leaned her head into her hand, looking over at Ed. "The most important thing a woman can do is to bring life into the world. It's not the _only _thing she's supposed to do- that would be stupid. But it's in our power, and when that power is taken away, it's devastating." There was only one thing that Ed had managed to glean from that insight: it was a woman's thing and he wouldn't ever understand it.

Ed looked around a bit in wonder as he continued to stare at all of them. Walking up to one, he put a hand up to it, the green glow from the lights in the tube bouncing off his skin and giving it a pale, greenish cast. The woman looked on as he seemed to grow very lost in his thoughts.

The most disturbing thing that had happened yesterday came back in a rush, and Ed's eyes tightened as he stared at the developing baby in the tube. If everyone had been made like this... what about Nirvana? Was Nirvana the same? What did they do in Patron City? Why didn't they have refugees here? Of course, because they held them hostage, and that's why they were fighting. But then-

Too many thoughts. There were too many. Ed was slowly becoming entangled within his own mind, and he felt a hand descend on his shoulder. He looked out of the corner of his eye to see the woman with the golden eyes. His hand curled up against the glass into a loose fist, and the baby on the inside jerked for a moment before resting in its safe, secure womb. Ed looked back at the tube and leaned his head against the glass, breathing out slowly. He'd been... conflicted. Very conflicted. He'd wondered if he'd made the right decision, siding with Oasis. There were a lot of things that made him cringe down here, this birthing process being one of them. Some of these things, though, he could get used to. However, there were other... other, more pressing matters that worried him.

"You're thinking about Nirvana's arrest, aren't you?" Ed snapped his head around to stare at the brunette whose unnerving golden eyes bored into his own eyes. He frowned as he said, "A little bit."

Nirvana had been handled less than gently. The minute she'd gotten within the compound, she'd been bombarded by several large, bulky military men, though that didn't last for long. Nirvana was scary fast, reminding Edward of a ghost by the way she managed to move and get out while taking down guards with hardly more than a touch in the right spot. She'd been surrounded by a large group of unconscious men before Edward could even ask what was going on. Commander Mustang had been present, calmly watching as she sipped her mug of synthetic coffee. Last time, she'd had Nirvana tranquilized, but this time she was obviously in a bad mood because she fired off a real bullet into the air. Real bullets were not used unless there was no other choice- plastic slugs and darts were more often used considering the fact that there was an abundance of plastic from the use of oil, not to mention it was easier to synthesize. The fact that a real, metal-jacket bullet went into the air with a loud crack was a clear indicator that she meant business.

Nirvana had stopped dead in her tracks at the loud noise, and the rest of the group watched from their safe spot surrounded by more military personnel. The expressions on their faces denoted that they didn't know what was going on either. Within seconds of her immobility, she was restrained by five different men. She struggled, but Nirvana was meant more for speed than actual strength. She glared at Mustang before suddenly chuckling and asking, "Oh, what now? Are you just pissed because I ended up getting under your skin _again?_ Seriously, you should figure out by now that if you wanted me, you should've sent a better team, not this sorry circuit right there." Kojak stepped forwards, saying in a rather nervous tone, "Nirvana, tone it down. Wait a mi-"

"Should've gotten a bargaining chip, Mustang. Would've been a whole lot easier just to cough up a 20th century faux-text and gotten it over with. You're losing your grip, Mustang," Nirvana said, ignoring Kojak, who was trying to reach her, but was being restrained by several men. Edward looked back and forth, wondering what exactly was happening. Mustang looked tranquil as ever, just sipping her mug of coffee. Finally, she said, "A bargaining chip would've been useless. You would've made off with it the minute I offered. And this is the team that you'll be leading anyways. Better get used to them as it is." Nirvana frowned. Edward realized that Nirvana didn't look too happy about this at all. She spat on the ground; obviously, that sign of contempt hadn't really gone out of style.

"Why don't you just send me, then? I'll get whatever you want, and then some. It'd be easier to just risk one potential traitor instead of an entire team of idiots who could be useful later," Nirvana reasoned, her voice icy cold and flat as the floor she stood on. Mustang shook her head with a deprecating smile, and Edward felt a sickening feeling in his stomach. Something wasn't right. This wasn't like how Roy had handled things at all. Though Roy had been big about showing off his power, he never actually used it on anybody, but this seemed... too much. It was dragging on for too long. What was Mustang's game? This was the difference between Hillary and Roy- though Roy may have the ability to play mind games, he never did so with his own subordinates, including Ed, even if he hadn't been happy about his performance in the field. Then again, Nirvana was an alleged traitor. She'd said so herself. Even if she was a traitor, though, she was hardly older than Edward himself was.

"Nirvana, shut up for once and maybe you'll learn something," Mustang said in a level voice. Her eyes were half-lidded, the depths of those coal black eyes seeming to penetrate farther than the imagination cared to go. She suddenly turned frosty as she said, "It really doesn't matter what I do, Nirvana, whenever it comes to detaining you or working with you. You've left me no choice. You can either agree to my terms, which we will discuss later, or I'll go the hard way."

"Mustang." Kojak's voice was full of warning and, of all things, fear. Edward turned his head towards the older man, wondering what it was that he was afraid of. Surely, it wasn't for himself. Nirvana was like his child to him, and the thought that anything could happen to her must have panicked him. Mustang wouldn't do anything to her, though... would she? Ignoring Kojak, Mustang said, "What's your answer, Nirvana? Do I have to make you and break you, or are you going to agree to all the terms I set for you?" Nirvana sighed theatrically, the room going dead silent as she thought. Edward could only hear the sounds of breathing from the people around him, being Georgia, Zhang, and Alice. Alice looked especially pained as she bit her lip. The girl had really grown attached to Nirvana and her wild ways, something that Ed wasn't entirely sure was a bad thing. The silence drug on before Nirvana smirked and said, "Go ahead, PMS Queen, hit me with your best shot. I'm not an idiot."

Mustang closed her eyes. She seemed to smile vaguely before saying, "Very well. Take her to the lock up. Shackles, straps, the whole thing." Nirvana's face fell and suddenly went into one of rage. She snarled as she shouted, "WHAT? THAT'S A LOW BLOW, AND YOU KNOW IT!" She started to struggle, obviously having underestimated Mustang and her tactics. Edward watched as they pushed her to the floor, cuffing her with actual handcuffs, something he hadn't seen once inside of the compound. Mostly, they used the liquid metal gloves that Kojak had used the first time on Nirvana. Ed felt guilt for the girl, who was being dragged away kicking and screaming. Ed couldn't place it, but there was something very, very wrong with this picture. Handcuffs were easy to pick, especially for an alchemist, so why didn't she just break them and run out...?

Kojak went to speak with Mustang in hushed tones. As Ed and the rest of the group dispersed, Edward passed by them, catching only a snatch of conversation.

"...not necessary. This is overkill, and you know it."

"It has to be overkill. Anything else, and Nirvana won't break."

"Why is it that you don't just hand her what she wants-"

"Because I have to break her first. If she doesn't, then she's of no use to me. And you know what happens to things that have no use in this place." Edward felt a chill go up his spine as he was escorted with the rest of his comrades. What was this all about? He'd gone to check on Nirvana, managing to get her location from Willow, who was laid up in the hospital wing from her missing limb. She looked none the worse for wear, actually, but that may have been because of the meds that she was on. This place was full of miracle drugs. Ed could only imagine what sort of stuff they had in just that one hospital room.

He didn't know what he'd been expecting when he'd gone to Nirvana's cell. It was one of the lowest levels of the compound, and it was clear they weren't taking any more chances with her. The room was partitioned by bullet- and shatterproof glass, the concrete floor bare and unmarred save for several large sockets in the floor which contained several different anchors for shackles, though strangely enough there were no actual chains connecting the shackles to the anchors. The room was gray and bare-lit with a single bulb, giving the walls a shining, glistening look that was oddly eery. The room itself wasn't at all scary, but what was inside of it caused Ed to rethink everything he knew about this compound and what he was fighting for.

Because Nirvana looked like something out of a war film.

Her wrists were bleeding, and the bone glistened from underneath the large, iron shackles around her wrists. Her ankles were the same, with bruising around the edges of the wounds. She had several other bruises on her body, and her face looked hollowed out and haunted. He frowned as he stepped up to the glass, putting his fingers against it as if he could reach out to the tortured looking person on the other side. What had they done to her? He didn't understand what she had done that she would recieve this type of punishment.

Nirvana looked up through a curtain of blonde-white hair, her green eyes piercing as he saw that little gold flecks dotted the irises like bits of gold leaf. She stared at him with the most loathing, horrid expression. She snarled at him, and she ran at him. Ed flinched back, but right before she reached the glass, her hands were pulled back by an invisible force. There was a shimmer of blue as Nirvana fought against her shackles, reaching for Edward and snapping her teeth like some sort of wild animal. Suddenly, she turned and went back, pacing back and forth like a caged wolf. She started to work at the shackles, and Ed finally noticed something that he hadn't, at first, realized.

Those wounds around her wrists had not been caused by an outside source. Nirvana had _done it to herself _by struggling against the shackles, trying to worry her wrists out of them. However, if she tried to get her hands anywhere near each other, they were forced apart again by another unseen force, and Edward felt a welling of pity and compassion for her. Restraints... shackles... He remembered how antsy she'd been wearing the liquid metal gloves. When he'd fought her, he remembered that when he'd tried to hold her back, she'd completely went berserk. And now, he was beginning to understand what Mustang had meant by breaking Nirvana. She was using fear tactics to cause Nirvana to become obedient. From what Ed remembered from being inside of the bunker on top of the compound, he figured that this had happened before. He'd never paid attention, but he could bet that there was layer upon layer of scar tissue over her wrists and ankles. What sort of place was this, that they had to resort to this... this... this sort of barbarity? Their wonderful miracles paled in the light of this sort of torture, because they were causing the person in question to torture themselves with their fears.

Edward swallowed as he watched Nirvana sit on the floor and stare at it with a listless expression, mumbling something to herself under her breath. If Ed could've heard her, he would've heard what would've been gibberish to any other person. However, this was something different to Nirvana- she was reciting formula upon formula of force, reaction, and inertia, trying to take her mind off the utter panic she felt. He'd watched her for more than an hour, people coming and going around him as he stared at the person inside of the room who refused to be broken.

Edward's thoughts recollected themselves as he got his mind off of the past. He turned his head away from the woman next to the womb tank, and he said, "She... she didn't do anything. All she wanted was... was out. That was it. Why did they do that to her?" The woman's face was one of hurt. She closed her eyes, bowing her head. She answered, "Hillary will do anything, _anything at all_, to keep Oasis alive and breathing. Even if it means... drastic measures. Nirvana can't be trusted at all. She's done too many things in Patron City without our knowledge. We're not sure what it is, but we do know that she had no love for Oasis at all." Edward scoffed and muttered, "I wonder why."

The woman shook her head, as if he didn't understand. "This place was her home, Edward. She didn't use to hate this place so much. Now, she's... she's chnaged. Before she'd gone to Patron City, she'd been a different person entirely. She disappeared for months on end. We can't take chances." Edward snapped his head around to glare at the woman. He narrowed his eyes and asked, "Oh, so does that mean it's right to scare a person until they're out of their mind, just because they're _suspected _of having been around the enemy? What if she's done nothing wrong?"

"What if she was the one who gave them our location?" Edward stopped short. His eyes widened slightly, and he tried to sort things out. Given them... He thought about the earlier attack on the compound with those hideous soldiers. He swallowed hard and said, "You're talking about-"

"Yes. What if she gave them our location? She may have come back, but what if she did that to get into the compound on our good graces? What if she's a mole? We _can't take chances, Ed."_ The woman's face was suddenly stern and hardened. Edward suddenly came to a revelation. Everyone, every last soldier, every last farmer, all of them- they were all part of this war. It didn't matter what their job was, they were soldiers, too, and this life had scarred them to the point of callousness. Ed thought about the alchemists fighting in the stead of Oasis. Most of them were either fifteen or fifty, but it didn't matter their age because all of them would be called to fight in an emergency. Ed backed off, knowing it wasn't any use. These people were stuck in a war mindset, that feeling of doing whatever it took to win. He looked around and said, "Whatever. Just... I want out of here."

The woman promptly walked off, and Edward followed in a sullen silence. She submitted her code, and the both of them removed their suits without a word to one another. However, Edward did have to ask one thing. He looked curiously over at the woman and asked, "What's your name, anyways?" The woman gave Ed a slightly surprised look, but, deciding they must be reconciled, answered, "My name is Trisha."


	10. Debrief

D E B R I E F

After Ed's incident in the incubation room, he'd wandered around for days in a sort of haze. He had realized this idly on the top of the rooftops of that skeleton city sitting out in the desert, but had not given it thought ever since. And now, his mind was consumed with it as doubt pecked away at his mind like a thousand woodpeckers intent on completely felling a massive tree. The question had assailed him back in 1915, when things were simpler and easier to understand. The answer had also been equally simple and equally easy to reach. It hadn't taken much thought to find the answer, after all, because it had always been standing right next to him in that giant suit of armor, waiting and waiting.

But now, the question had reared its ugly head, and the answer happened to have died nearly two hundred years ago, surrounded by family and friends- except for the one person that mattered most to him.

What was he fighting for?

Edward's answer had always been 'Alphonse.' Al this, Al that, everything revolved around his little brother. He'd joined the military for his brother's sake. He'd fought homunculi and vicious chimeras, just for a scrap of information, a tidbit of research, a lead that would lead anywhere to that bright future he saw shining at the end of the path that would lead to his brother's restoration. He would've taken down ten legions, a couple alchemists, and maybe even a homunculus to boot, just to see him smile. After all, look how far he'd gone for his mother. Blood was thicker than water to Edward, but he wasn't sure anymore because the only family he had now was unfamiliar and changed in so many ways. They weren't _really _his family. They may have his blood in their veins, his mother's and his brother's, flowing through them, but Edward did not know them at all, and therefore they meant nothing.

Perhaps water _was_ thicker than blood. Just maybe. But nevertheless, it still brought up that one question.

What was he fighting for?

The tempo of his punches and kicks continued to hike upwards as he pounded on a large punching bag. At least, these things hadn't changed in the past couple hundred years or so. Sure, the design and the material had been changed slightly, but it still had the usual look and feel of a good old punching bag. Edward hopped on the balls of his feet, swaying side to side as he stared at it. The question was still revolving in his head. He'd seen the people of this place, and he'd thought they were strange, almost backwards. Still, they were good enough people. Of course, he'd had to see the dirty side of Oasis. To add to his stock of nightmares, he saw Nirvana in his dream, screaming herself hoarse as she begged and pleaded to the open air. And sometimes, whenever the dreams were _really _bad, he'd imagine that it was _him _in those chains instead of her, trapped in a never ending nightmare.

That was what his life had become, after all. Everything he'd strived to save and keep safe was dead and gone. His entire purpose had shriveled under the weight of doubt, information overload, and overwhelming fear. He couldn't survive in this world. There had been an old saying that he would use- ... used. The word is _used. _That he _used _to say to Mustang all the time just to rile him up a little bit. _You couldn't teach an old dog new tricks. _Well, Ed was exactly that, and the dog didn't just have to learn new tricks nowadays. He had to reconfigure everything about the dog, from the way it walked, the way it barked, and even the way it ate and crapped in its dainty little box. Back in his day (oh how weird that sounded), you let a dog outside and it did its business. Around here, that apparently didn't fly considering there wasn't a whole lot of grass and dirt for a dog to have a nice bit of privacy time.

Ed continued, his fists blurring as he rapidly threw punch after punch at the bag, causing it to rock back and forth, swinging towards him after every hit. He hit it with a flying kick, sending it swinging in the ceiling's general direction, which it probably wasn't used to considering how heavy it was. Ed was lucky the workout room was empty. He would've had a pretty veritable crowd standing around just watching him go at the bag with blind resolution, as if the thing had done him a grave personal injury. The movements were familiar. The steps were always right. The tempo almost never changed. But there was something _missing. _This wasn't natural, somehow. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was just something that was absent here in this routine that should've been normal. Suddenly, Ed realized it, and his eyes widened into two gold discs as the punching bag flew back and hit him square in the face.

He was knocked back on his butt, staring at the bag in disbelief. If a punching bag could look smug, this one certainly did. Edward wiped off his face, not having realized how sticky it was getting. It was generally pretty cool in the workout room, a breezy sixty eight degrees Fahrenheit. He'd always thought that it was weird that the people here in Oasis used Fahrenheit instead of the usual Celsius, but then again, the Fahrenheit system was only just that much more accurate in terms of numeration... Ed turned his thoughts back towards his revelation, which had been rudely interrupted by the punching bag's sudden rebuke. The reason why he'd felt something missing from this was because there was no _reaction _towards his moves. No one to move in tandem with him. No one to challenge him. He'd proved himself against Nirvana, and that was enough for most people to stomach. He wasn't quite unmatched, per se, as... he didn't have anybody to join in the dance.

His face forlorn, Edward picked himself back up, brushing off the pair of shorts that he was wearing along with the kneelength, undershorts that went with them. He'd never understand what was with these people. Shorts were shorts- why add to them? He sighed, looking around the room. It was empty, which was slightly strange. Usually there was _someone _in here. Ed looked back at the punching bag, and he stuck his tongue out immaturely at it. It almost seemed to wiggle with indignation at the sign of contempt, and Ed walked away towards the showers when suddenly he saw out of the corner of his eye a flash of white-blonde.

Edward whirled around to stare at Willow, who'd enter from the side of the workout room. With her was Spencer, who was helping her walk. She had a sleek looking prosthetic on her leg, and he marveled at her for a minute. His heart had stopped for all of a beat because for just that one beat, he'd thought... he'd seen... But he came back to Earth pretty fast as Willow bluntly said, "Wow, you must've been working out, because you're really sweaty." Winry wasn't... well, quite that blunt. She would make a sarcastic or caustic insult, but she wasn't exactly the type to lay it out like that in such a cheerful tone. Ed watched curiously as Willow went up to a machine that scanned the prosthetic leg. She stood on another machine, and suddenly she was moving, flying across as her legs pumped up and down in a piston-like fashion. His eyes widened as he watched, realizing that this must be the souped-up version of a treadmill.

"Shouldn't you be in the hospital?" Ed asked incredulously, walking over and staring at the leg intently. It didn't seemed to impede her at all. In fact, if anything, it seemed to enhance her speed by a fraction. Willow smiled and panted, "No... not really... my recovery... time was... cut in half. My... mom made... this new... model and- WHOA!" She almost fell off the machine, but Spencer caught her easily. The machine whirred as Willow stared up at Spencer appreciatively with a look that was softer than Ed had ever seen it. Suddenly, something clicked in his head, and he realized- oh. _Oh. _A buzz of disappointment echoed for all of a moment, but he pushed it away. He frowned at himself, angry that he'd ever contemplated it. She was _not _Winry, no matter how alike she looked or how much she sounded like her or... or any of that. It was unfair of him to ever have thought otherwise. Still, that pang-

"Her mom made a new model that cuts recovery time in half. She hardly has to wait more than a couple days to start physical therapy. Pretty vamp, right?" Ed blinked at the new term.

"Um... what?" Spencer patiently smiled and said, "Vamp's a term that means like... awesome, or nifty." Ed was almost insulted that he'd used the word 'nifty.' Come on, he wasn't _that _old. Grandma used that word, seriously... He tried to get his mind back on track. Crap, why couldn't he ever get his thoughts to just stay on one frickin' train and leave it at that?

"Well, that's great. I didn't know recovery was that short," Ed said with a slight hint of awe. The model that Willow was using happened to be a metallic blue and silver one, which looked lightweight and pretty shiny and new. Spencer nodded and said, "Yeah, usually it takes about two weeks to get used to one of these things, but her mom's a genius when it comes to automail, and so is her dad." Ed did a doubletake as he realized that this was no ordinary prosthetic- it was automail that required only two weeks of recovery time. How long was the-

"Physical therapy usually takes a few days. Three or four at the most," Spencer answered. Ed's chin just barely brushed the floor.

"Iced out, huh?" Willow said. Ed nodded numbly, and suddenly he felt that pang again, that feeling that he was so far behind everybody and everything. He hardly remembered saying goodbye to Spencer and Willow, walking to the shower rooms, and turning on the water. He stood under the hot water for a few minutes before realizing just how much it hurt. Ed had only ever been impaired in one way before, and that had been automail. Even that hadn't really been an impairment- in some ways, it was an improvement. His intelligence had been second to none. He could fight with the best of them. There hadn't seemed to be anything that could stop him except for the laws of nature and physics, and he periodically bent those as he willed. But here, he had a major handicap. Information was at his fingertips, but he couldn't interpret any of it. He could hardly keep up with all the new developments. Everything was moving so fast, they passed at a blur. He hardly processed what passed by as anything more than just another footnote on a timeline. It was so clear that he was in the wrong century that he suddenly felt utterly alone.

If Al were here, Edward wouldn't feel this loneliness. If Al were here- Edward suddenly punched the wall, causing the tile to crack. Suddenly, the wall fixed itself again, and Ed watched it. He did it again and again and again, watching it crack and reform, crack and reform, crack and reform... The water ran over his head as Edward pounded the wall with his fist, unleashing the absolute fury that he was subjected to inside of his head. He'd tried so hard to keep it under wraps, trying to catch up, trying to bottle the frustration, bite on his tongue, and try to just _forget _everything for a little while just to get a bit of peace. None of it was working. And that question kept leering at him, the words issued from his brother's mouth in his mind's eye.

_What are you fighting for? _

He knew that Alphonse had gotten his body back. Though he hadn't been present, Al had managed to regain the entire thing and continue on the Elric line. Alice was testament to that, and to some extent so was Trisha, the woman he'd met back in the incubation room. Nevertheless, Edward felt so cheated. He'd gotten his brother's body back, hadn't he? So why was he still fighting? Why was he being so selfish as to just wish he could go back even if it meant that Al would lose that ability to regain his body? He stopped himself as he thought about it. Perhaps it was his leaving that had caused it. What if Edward's disappearance had somehow driven Alphonse to get his body? No, that couldn't possibly... but maybe... if... All this time travel was making Ed's head hurt, and he stopped pounding his fist into the shower's wall. It reformed for the last time, and Ed realized that he was crying.

Disgusted with himself, he got out of the shower, dressed, and walked out the back way without saying a single word to either Willow or Spencer. They watched him curiously as he left, whispering as he closed the door behind him with a slam. It was evident that the boy was practically a raging, blonde sandstorm waiting to take someone or something out. Suddenly, he felt a vibration in his pocket, and he nearly jumped. The people around him, all walking along the corridors of the public sector, stared at him as he tried to hold in a surprised yelp. Feeling self conscious and sullen, he pulled out a new WiCom from his pocket. Flipping it open, he saw that Mustang wanted to talk to him. He groaned out loud. Of all the people he didn't want to see, she was at the very, very, _very _top of his long list. Underneath her name happened to be every human being within five hundred square miles that was above and below the ground. Ed apparently was not a very happy person at that moment.

"What?" he snapped as he put a widget in his ear. It worked much like a wireless earbud, except that a piece of silver dangled from the earbud itself, which caught soundwaves from the speaker's voice. A crystal clear Hilary answered, "Edward, you're needed for debriefing which was scheduled, by the way, about _three hours ago." _Ed rolled his eyes. He was not in the mood for a lecture. In fact, he wasn't in the mood for anything other than smashing someone's face in with a large hammer. Or maybe collapsing a couple of levels; that would be quite enjoyable too. In fact, he needed something to let off some steam, and his workout hadn't really done a whole lot in that area at all. He took out the earbud from his ear, and he walked with the flow of people towards the Hole. _"Ed? Hello? Edward Elric, you had better answer me. Edward?"_ She was sounding more and more like a mother hen by the minute. An image of a hen dressed up in a fancy military outfit assailed him, and Ed had to smirk to himself.

Upon reaching the lip of the Hole, he blatantly disregarded the sign that said "PLEASE DO NOT THROW ANYTHING DOWN THE MAIN VENTILATION SHAFT- MNGT" by chucking the entire earpiece into open space. Several people watched in horror, and some of the teenagers even clutched their own WiComs to their chest in fear like mothers watching a horrific scene of violence and shielding their children. Ed put his hands on his hips, watching the little flash of silver as it went down, and he smiled. That was oddly satisfying. He put his WiCom back in his pocket and continued to walk down the hallways aimlessly. There really wasn't much else for him to do other than to ignore Mustang's request, which was good enough for him.

His WiCom buzzed again, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. They didn't know how to leave him alone. He picked up the WiCom and flipped it back open. Written on the Wireless Communicator's screen was a message that was typed, _Nice try, asswipe. I can still text you._ Edward, who'd managed to master texting quite well because he managed to do it so frequently by putting a bunch of junk in Mustang's inbox, typed back, _Good for you. Now watch me block you. XP._ He pressed the block button after sending the message to her. See how _that _worked. However, not two minutes later, it buzzed again, and he muttered, "What the hell?" Flipping it open for the umpteenth time, he read Mustang's message.

_Idiot. I can practically control the WiComNet from my office. And besides, any numbskull with half a brain can hack a WiCom's block signal. Now get your insufferable butt up here so we can actually discuss this stupid mission and get it over with. _Ed's eye twitched. The only thing he really processed out of the message was 'insufferable', 'numbskull', and 'idiot.'

It wasn't surprising when Alice found Edward furiously tapping away at the little keybaord on his WiCom nearly an hour later. Alice looked over Ed's shoulder from where he was sitting, his back up against a wall as people passed him by. In fact, several had almost given him change thinking he was homeless or something, until the realized a lack of a styrofoam cup sitting near his feet and the very expensive WiCom that happened to be in his hands. Not to mention, not many people ever forgot those gold eyes or that blonde hair... Alice's eyebrows rose up so high, they threatened to disappear behind her hair line. She knew Ed had a colorful vocabulary, but this made the rainbow looked like a monochrome arch. Talk about vibrant.

"Having... fun?" Alice asked as she stared at the blonde-haired alchemist, who had just sent a message.

"No," he answered grumpily, sullenly crossing his arms and tucking his chin into his chest, the usual pose for a sulking two-year-old who was getting frustrated. Alice leaned against the wall, her elbow and arm supporting her head as she asked, "What's the problem now?" He handed her the WiCom and said, "I can't freaking block stupid Mustang and her messages. I don't _want _to go to a debriefing, damn it! I want to be left alone for a couple of hours. Is that too hard to ask?" Ed was used to ignoring orders. He was _not _used to anyone actually doing something about it. Like sending him a bajillion texts with the same basic message along with jamming all of the games he'd managed to scrap up and store on his WiCom. They were oddly entertaining, and they were simple enough for him to understand, though there was one very interesting game called Finger-Revolution where you had to tap these little colored dots that came towards the bottom of your-

"I can block it for you, you know. I could own this entire WiComNet if I wanted to, practically," Alice said proudly. Ed scoffed and muttered, "Apparently, so can everybody else and their grandma..." Alice pouted as she stared down at Ed before tapping a few things here and there on his WiCom. She frowned as she said derisively, "You _actually _play Finger-Revolution? That's practically last centu-"

"SHUT UP. IT'S FUN."

Alice rolled her eyes and scrolled through a few more things before she let out an 'AHA!' and handed him back his WiCom. He stared at it for a minute. And another minute. And another minute.

And then he pumped his fist with joy as he realized that Alice had, indeed, done the job. She smiled modestly as she laughed, "Ohohohoho, no need for congratulations." She waved a hand at him, blushing prettily as little sparklies seemingly danced around her. Ed almost did a facepalm as he realized that he could practically see a pink haze behind her along with some flowers and rainbows she was so pleased with herself. Suddenly, there was a text, and Ed frowned at her. Alice's self-congratulating moment was cut short as she stared at the Com with a blank look. Ed rolled his eyes and muttered, "Good job, reje-" His eyes widened as he read the message. It wasn't from Mustang. It was from Kojak.

Seeing Ed's suddenly serious face, Alice peered over his shoulder to stare at message. "What? What is it? What's going on?" Ed looked conflicted as he said, "They're... they're releasing Nirvana today."

* * *

  
The room was dark, dank, and concrete. The four walls were discolored by mildew and cracks. Small, hardy plants grew in the crevices where the little soil that was available clung stubbornly. A single light shone on a bare, bright stick of luminescent, slow burning magnesium compound held inside of a small, mesh net. Underneath it, shadows spilling in all directions, was a girl with bright blonde hair, hollow eyes, and the face of a caged predator. She was on her knees, her wrists rubbed raw and her ankles so weak they wouldn't support her. Her body looked emaciated and bruised. Her eyes were darkened by shadows, and the green depths therein practically glowed behind specks of bright gold. Her breathing rasped in and out, her body shuddering with each inhalation. Nirvana was in bad shape, but her physical state was nothing compared to her mental.

Inside of her mind, she saw monsters everywhere. They were circling and snapping at her, laughing. She could feel flames lick skin, and she felt panic rise like bile with its acrid, jittery fingers trailing dissent and fear down her spine. She wanted to scream, but she'd already shouted herself hoarse. She wanted to move, but her body refused to budge. As long as these shackles were around her wrists, she didn't have the capacity for mobility. Her mind strayed from one thought to the next like a roving, hungry animal. It pounced on any sort of input, anything to distract it from the horrifying panic that consumed it. Dogs were eating at her sanity, tearing chunks of it away like thieves in a house. She had already tried to bite her tongue, make herself bleed, anything to quell the fear and horrible feeling of being out of control. Weakly, she shrugged against the invisible reinforcements that strapped her wrists and ankles to the floor. Every day, they pulled the chain a little shorter, a little shorter, a little shorter... What happened when she hit the floor? Would she disappear into it? Would she scream and cry? Would she shout uncle and finally be done with it?

The door into the room clanged open and closed. Nirvana sucked in breaths one by one, each one sounding more painful and labored than the last. This... This ultimate _fear _was crushing her. And the only reason why she was subjected to it was because of herself. She shivered as she lowered her head, a shivering moan emitted from her mouth. She would wait for the person to reach her before she would strike. The only person that would be inside this hell was Mustang. She'd created it, after all. Why shouldn't she come to gloat at her latest masterpiece? She'd always loved torture. She didn't look up as someone knelt in front of her, going for the shackles around her wrists-

She pounced, letting out a war cry as she slammed her hands around the person's throat, shoving them to the floor. They made a strangled noise as she sat on top of them. She could hear shouts from behind the glass wall that split her prison into two parts, but she didn't much care. By the time those useless buffoons got here, Mustang was already going to have a crushed windpipe and two weeks recovery in the-

Suddenly, Nirvana realized that she wasn't choking Mustang, but Ed. He suddenly decked her in the face as her eyes widened with recognition, and she flew back. The restraints slammed her in the ground, not allowing inertia to do its job and let her slide across the floor. She groaned as she sat up, staring at Edward. She hissed in a gravelly voice, "What are _you _doing here? Why'd she let you in here? Are you here just to mess with me? LIKE HELL I'LL LET-!" Her words were stopped as Ed gave her a swift slap to the face. Nirvana shut up long enough for him to say, "I'm _here _to get you out of here, you dope. That was, until you strangled me. Now I'm thinking about just leaving you here." His eyes were steely, and Nirvana just stared, her own eyes moving to different points on his face in some crazed pattern. Ed's face held both anger, irritation, and... well, sympathy, almost. Alice came in behind Nirvana, who flinched and was read to mule kick her backwards, but stopped just in time to see the person's face before she did so. Alice had already moved back anyways.

"They're... they're letting me... letting me go," Nirvana whispered in disbelief. Her glare was suspicious. She didn't believe a word. Everything they said was lies, and all the things they made were to kill, and-

"Yes. We're letting you go," Ed said slowly, putting a hand out. It was if he were reaching out to a dangerous, wounded animal. It wasn't far from the truth. Nirvana stared at Edward's hand before she attempted to stand up and regain what little dignity she had left that wasn't in tiny bite-sized pieces. It was difficult, as the restraints caused her to hunch over from their short length, but she managed. Ed looked over at Alice and motioned her over. He muttered, "You do this. I've got no idea how to work this thing." Alice scoffed and said, "God. Boltbucket." Ed stuck his tongue out and pulled down on eyelid at her, but she ignored it as she took a strange looking device out of her pocket. It looked a lot like a top, though a very, very shiny green and black top at that. It whizzed above her hand, and she placed it on the ground. It whizzed to each of the sockets that corresponded with each of the restraints that Nirvana had on, and one by one the shackles fell off. Her wrists were still bloodied and bruised, but Ed could see that they'd been bandaged as well. Her ankles, too, were treated, but they were shaky and just barely managing to hold her upright. Ed wondered why'd they'd let her get in such a bad state to begin with. Negligence? Just to teach her a lesson? He never found out, because Nirvana suddenly punched him in the face hard enough to leave a galaxy of stars in front of Edward's eyes. Ed stumbled back a few steps before landing on his butt for the second time that day, staring at Nirvana with a surprised, bewildered look.

Finally, his face turned red and he spluttered, "What the hell was that for?" Nirvana shook out her sore hand and spat back, "For kidnapping me, cessbrain. Are you really that dense? You probably are, considering the fact you almost broke my hand with your face. Oh, and about that-" She gave him a hard kick, which sent him flying backwards into a wall. "This was for nearly breaking my hand with your face." Ed got up in a cloud of dust, coughing slightly, but still looking like the flames of hell were raging in the background behind him. His eye twitched as he said, "Well, it's not my face you decided to break your hand against my head. Maybe you need to get a stronger hand."

"Maybe you need to get a more hollow head. Then there'd be space left for a brain!"

"You already have the hollow head, so you beat me there, sister! All you've got to do is find some gray matter to put into it!"

Alice resisted the urge to hack Program into dropping two twenty-pound blocks of lead on both of the blondes' heads. In fact, Program was contemplating that itself, considering the fact that they were now using some rather anatomically impossible suggestion towards one another, including something about sticking their foot up their own-

"Can't you two shut up for more than two seconds? Sheesh..." Alice complained as she tapped her foot impatiently, staring at both Nirvana and Ed. Both blondes scoffed at her suggestion, but Nirvana's derisive response was interrupted by a sharp sound of pain. She hit the floor, her ankles finally giving up on her. Ed managed to catch her, but not before she'd managed to sit on the ground while hissing with pain. The door creaked open again, and all eyes stared intently at the newcomer. Kojak looked rather out of place and large in the concrete room, seeming to fill up the entire space with his vastness. On him was a medkit, which he'd already started to program for whatever it was ailing Nirvana. The big man reached all of the teenagers in hardly two strides, and he knelt next to the downed alphysicist with hardly a whisper of sound.

"You let her keep me here?" Nirvana suddenly asked, a hurt and angry look in her eyes. Edward's own orbs flickered between the two, and Alice was already heading off into a corner to call up something to help transport Nirvana to the medical bay. Kojak's lips turned almost white as he pressed them together. He looked down, tending to Nirvana's ankles. He shook his head, and he said, "Nah, baby. I couldn't do anything. They wouldn't let me in. I was takin' care of your lawyer and all those other legal suites you managed to get yourself into." Nirvana winced, though from her ankles or the mention of her variety of angered legal enemies, Ed didn't know. He swallowed deeply as Kojak removed the bandages from around her ankles, showing a rather gruesome display of raw sinew and ripped skin. It didn't seem to be infected, but Ed was sure it was painful and would take quite a while to heal.

"You missed the debrief, Ed," Kojak said quietly, a mere statement. Even so, Ed could hear the annoyed tone in it, and he looked away with a chagrined, angry look. He'd thought it was better that he not be around anyone at the time. He'd already recieved hell for beating up several of the idiots in the Sci-Dep that decided to mess with him and make fun of his 'antique.' He decided to demonstrate that his antique could out-pulp any of their new models any day of the week. Needless to say, Mustang was not happy that Ed beat up a couple of science geeks. His answer?

"Well, they were asking for it."

Kojak lifted Nirvana up, but the girl shoved him away from her defiantly, attempting to stand on her own. She managed, but just barely. The thickheaded alphysicist wanted nothing to do with either the large black man or Edward. Alice, once she'd seen that Nirvana was back up on her feet in a very literal sense, ran over with a smile on her face, but it was quickly demolished when Nirvana shoved her aside as she walked out the door. Alice watched Nirvana leave with a slightly heartbroken expression when the door slammed shut and banged back open from the force applied to it. No doubt, Nirvana had felt the reverberations in her wrist tenfold from that little stunt, but she probably didn't care all that much. Ed scoffed as he muttered, "Asshole." Kojak shook his head and walked towards the door while Alice continued to look towards the exit that the legendary figure had exited from.

"Jerk," Alice muttered, her eyes suddenly taking a steely, hardened cast. She scuffed at the floor with her foot and followed behind Kojak, reminiscent of a puppy following its mother. Ed stayed inside of the room a while longer, looking at the fallen restraints and breathing the dank, thick air of the chamber. He sighed, knowing that there was a reason for everything a person did. Nirvana had a right to be angry, but she was lashing out on everybody and anybody that happened to be in reach. Ed winced. Did he do that, too? On occasion, yes. He'd gotten better about it, considering the people he could hurt now were people who didn't know him at all and wouldn't understand. Was it even okay to take it out on people that did? Ed shook his head, wondering where this was all going. Really, it was like she was some sort of copy. She was different from Ed in so many ways, but they shared so many similarities that sometimes Ed thought it was just a little bit frightening.

Suddenly, that sense of claustrophobia hit him in a tidal wave, and he hurried out of the room. He had to get to a debriefing, after all.

* * *

"So glad you could join us." Mustang's tone was dry and brittle as she stared at both Alice and Edward. Everyone else who'd been assigned to the trip was there, too. The Xingese emissaries didn't seem too miffed that this meeting was being started so late (possibly because Zhang had been two hours late himself). However, the Rockbell twins, Georgia, and Imal weren't quite so easy-going. They shot glares at Ed and Alice, and Alice, in classic fashion, gave them the finger. Imal glared for quite a while at her rude gesture, but all she did was hold out her arms in a "Whatcha gonna do?" pose. Even Ed, who had no idea of social norms around this century, figured that it was an offensive gesticulation.

"Settle down, children. This isn't a prep versus goth team here," Mustang said wearily as she rubbed her forehead. Ed could see her make-up come off on her fingers, and he took a little satisfaction from knowing that he was causing her some grief in more than one department. She must've seemed to sense that smugness, because she immediately looked up and glared at him. The blonde alchemist quickly looked off, innocently whistling. The room was probably more distracted and vague than a preschooler's playhouse.

"Now that all of you are-" The door was kicked open, as always. No, the door could not be opened via turning the handle and slowly pushing on the metal. By some unspoken rule, it was taboo to enter Mustang's office through ordinary means. The door _had _to be kicked open. The vein in Mustang's head was getting dangerously proportional to a balloon animal.

Grayson strolled in like a summer breeze, his hair seemingly windblown and his clothes rumpled and disorganized. He was the picture of the reckless academic coming in from the field (of which happens to be the library). He sat down in a chair, giving the impression of folding his long limbs into it as he almost literally bounced up and down. He smiled at everybody, oblivious to Mustang's growing ire. He blinked as he realized that it was almost cricket-chirping quiet, and he asked, "What? Did I interrupt something?"

He was nailed in the middle of the head with a paperweight. Knocked out cold, he slumped in the chair with his mouth hanging slack and his limbs sprawled. Ed stared in horror as Mustang sat back down in her chair, dusted off her hands, picked up a piece of digi-paper and said, "Now, as you all know, this is going by live feed to Nirvana, who's in a womb tank right now to heal up from her... ordeal. She's also being given supplements to augment strength and speed-"

"Like she needs any more of that," Zhang muttered under his breath. He, too, ended up a victim of the vicious paperweight. His response was less lax, however, as he muttered several Xingese curses under his breath pertaining to Mustang and her mother's heredity concerning bovines.

"-and she can hear every word we say," Mustang continued without a hitch. She stared at everyone in the room, conscious or not. She turned back to her paper and said, "Now, all of the supplies for the trip have been purchased by Georgia, and we're ready to leave in twenty-four hours. You will _not _be arriving on camelback to Patron City." Inwardly, Edward pumped his fist and let out a loud yell of triumph. Well... at least what he thought was inwardly. He realized too late that this was not so as everybody stared at him. He shrugged and explained, "I hate camels." Mustang smirked as she leaned forwards and said mischeiviously, "Instead, you will be airdropping from twenty thousand feet to the desert surface right in the path of a refugee caravan that runs every two and a half weeks to Patron City from Drachma." Ed stared at her with a smile plastered to his face before the words were actually processed.

"...What?"


	11. Drop

**D R O P**

Ed couldn't seem to get his stomach to listen to him. It was trying very valiantly to have nothing to do with Edward, seeing as he'd been ready to throw the entire thing up as he sat there in his seat in the cargo plane they happened to be occupying. He looked around with a sick look at the other passengers. The two Xingese emissaries seemed perfectly fine. Georgia was playing with a puzzle box. Alice was snoring loudly while Imal tried his hardest to keep himself from covering her mouth with his hand and waking her up just to stop the cacophony of noise. Kojak was staring out a window, and Richie looked lost and unfamiliar being by himself. Nirvana had forbade Willow to come, considering the fact that the drop would put an incredibly amount of stress on Willow's body, and though her leg may be functional the rest of her still had some catching up to do. Edward winced as he remembered the argument that had ensued back at base. Willow had brought up Nirvana's own shaky condition, but Nirvana had answered cryptically.

"Then why are you going?"

"I'm made of tougher stuff, that's why. I don't break like you do."

Edward frowned as he looked over to Nirvana's seat, where she was idly tapping a digi-pen against her armrest as she played with some wordgame or other. She was strangely calm now, having been only foaming at the mouth practically two days before. The ability to heal was very, very creepy, and Ed didn't care what sort of miracle medicine they had in the infirmary. That wasn't natural for a person to go from panicked, deranged teenager to cool, collected young woman. Something had been nagging at Ed ever since he'd gone to her in that hellish room where she'd been captive. He remembered her wrists being rubbed raw, but the only wrist she ever touched with a look of pain was her right. She didn't give the time of day to her left wrist, and as Ed had watched her, ever observatory, he realized that when he'd checked on her, her left wrist had been rubbed raw, but the skin hadn't broken. In fact, the skin had looked strange. Then again, she'd had bandages over both wrists by the time he'd gotten there, but his earlier visit before this entire debacle had given him an unedited version of Nirvana's torture. She never once talked about it, and Ed never brought it up. Maybe that was how it should be.

Ed turned back to the front, where the pilot sat behind a thin wall of glass. It was bulletproof, from what he'd been told (and would willingly believe). He didn't know why a pilot would need to sit behind a bulletproof pane of glass, but that was their idea. Still... Grayson, who was sitting next to him, was practically bouncing out of his seat, but not out of excitement. Ed could tell the guy was nervous, considering his bookworm nature. Dropping out of a plane from twenty thousand feet sounded like a lot of fun... well, with a parachute. The procedure for this type of drop was going to be just a little bit different...

"Grayson, what's with the pane of glass between us and the cockpit?" Ed asked. Grayson knew everything, after all. Or so people said.

"Hmm? What? Oh, sorry, um, the glass is there in case something in the cargo area or passenger area breaks and starts decompressing the cabin. That part of the plane has its own life support, and he it can detach from the rest of this thing. Should we ever get into that type of situation, we'd all be dead already, but the pilot would at least be able to take our dead bodies back home. Or we could all pile into the cockpit and hope that it has enough air for a good number of people," Grayson answered in anxious, hysterical tones. Ed could see the guy was losing it already, and they hadn't even made it to their drop zone yet. Even Ed was relatively calm, after getting the gist of what they were going to do. He had no doubts that it'd be perfectly safe. He also did not have any doubts that he'd probably have to change pants afterwards, but they'd burn that bridge when they crossed it.

"Hey, kiddos, we're about to approach the drop zone. Better get gussied up. I'm not makin' a U-turn," the pilot said, his gravelly voice coming over the intercom. Ed blinked, realizing that only about thirty minutes had passed. They were already there? And they would've spent two weeks on camels rather than do this? They were crazy! Several of the others were unclipping their seatbelts and heading towards the drop station, where they'd be outfitted into what the techs had morbidly called 'The Crash Coffins.' They were basically boxes with lots and lots of padding on the inside as well as straps and a hook-up to a life support system. They were made of some sort of incredibly strong, carbon matrix material that was designed to absorb shocks. All the padding did the same, though it was definitely made of softer stuff. There was a window to watch the world drop by, and the entire outside was covered in a smart-skin of color changing, microscopic diodes that would blend with any of the surroundings. There was a parachute at the top, but the Crash Coffin was designed so that it could land on anything, be it dirt, rock, water, or snow, and the impact would only leave the occupant slightly jarred and thinking that the next time he thought about doing anything like that again, he'd enroll himself into a mental institution.

Which was what Ed was contemplating as he strapped himself into one of the open, sand-colored boxes. He felt his stomach try to revolt again, but the rest of his body managed to hold still enough for him to strap himself inside. There were attendants who were locking it from the outside, and Ed felt that growing sense of claustrophobia again as they closed the door. Though the padding gave the thing a womblike feeling, he wanted desperately to get out. He groaned and leaned his head back, hitting the padding underneath his neck. This entire idea was absolutely insane! He didn't care that he had an entire month of supplies in the cargo compartment. He didn't care if this thing was insulated to within an inch of its life! THEY CALLED IT THE CRASH COFFIN FOR PETE'S SA-

Ed's hysterical thoughts were cut short as he was suddenly aware that his stomach and heart were sharing the same space in his throat. He felt himself rattle around as the box tumbled, trying to find some sort of equilibrium as it sailed downwards towards the desert floor. Out of his little window, Ed realized he was actually facing up with his back to the ground as he saw three other boxes come out of the plane's underbelly. They all looked like little parcels as they came down, and Ed asked himself again, _Why am I DOING this? _Then again, he'd been asking himself that every couple of seconds while living in the Oasis bunker, and by now he still didn't have a single clue. Maybe because if he were on vacation, he'd probably go crazier than if he were being dropped out of an airplane in what could be called a glorified casket.

Very suddenly, Ed smashed his forehead against the little window, and he let out a loud, "DAMN!" Headshots were becoming more and more frequent the longer he stayed in the future. Maybe this place just had something against him. Ed looked down in his window again, and this time realized that his orientation happened to be vertical. That yank that he'd felt (especially in his forehead) had been the parachute dragging the entire thing upwards into a vertical position. Instead of freefalling, he was now gently floating down. That would be _great _if there weren't drones around, but seeing as they were this close to Patron City... Ed resisted the urge to break open the box with alchemy. Skydiving without a parachute didn't sound exactly favorable.

Suddenly, there was a beeping on the inside of Ed's box. He frowned until he heard a hiss, and his eyes widened as he smelled something strange. He realized that it was getting harder and harder to breath. The oxygen tank was also mixed with a supplement of nitrogen and carbon dioxide, and he suddenly knew that something was very, very wrong.

"Carbon Dioxide levels reaching critical occupation. If technical failure persists, occupant will die. We are sorry for the inconvenience." Ed's eyes bugged out as he stared at the box. That was all they had to say? We are sorry for the inconvenience? It would be very inconvenient _if he died. _Edward knew he had to get out, but the little altometer to his right said he was almost a thousand feet from ground level. Still, he was losing more and more oxygen, and considering that cellular respiration wasn't exactly CO2 friendly, he was putting out more carbon dioxide than he was breathing in. Edward looked at the altometer again as the beeping got more frantic, and Ed's vision started to blur. He was losing too much oxygen! Any more and he'd black out, and he'd be trapped inside of the box when he hit the ground.

"Screw that," he muttered to himself. He looked at the altometer again. Five hundred feet. Well, better splat than suffocate. It was definitely a lot quicker.

Outside the box, there was a massive spark of light. Suddenly, it was replaced with what looked like a very strange looking, disjointed air balloon, a small blonde alchemist sitting in the basket. He clung to it for dear life as it suddenly plummetted faster. The box had been designed especially for the parachute and vice versa. Seeing as the box was no longer, well, a _box, _it was falling a lot faster. Finally, it started reaching terminal velocity, and Ed felt like his body was trying to rip itself apart from the g's he was experiencing. His cheeks seemed to ripple as he got closer and closer to the ground. He realized he'd have to get this thing to slow down way more if he was going to survive impact. That or turn it back into a box (which, by the way, was not going to happen). Another flash of light, and the thing had wings. It lifted for a moment as the air caught it, and it slowed significantly.

It hit the ground and slid on a dune before coming to a rest. Ed looked out comically, his eyes shifting side to side as if to look for somebody that might happen to be in the middle of the desert expecting a large, bird-shaped basket to appear. The rest of the parachute fluttered down and landed on Ed's head, covering him completely. He started to flail to get out of it, and he fell out of the gondola with a yell. He finally extricated himself from the parachute, and he looked up. He didn't really see anyone else. He guessed they'd already landed by now...

Sure enough, he saw something move in the sand, and a person-shaped figure climbed out, but he couldn't tell who it was. Several more did the same. It seemed that everyone had landed in more or less the same spot. He brushed the sand out of his hair as he started clambering over to the rest of them over the dunes.

"The hell was that? Sheesh, I thought I was a dead man," Zhang muttered as he dragged all of his stuff out of his box. Ed winced as he realized that he'd forgotten everything in his haste to get away from the confounded contraption. Guun was likewise as he grunted, heaving the pack onto his back after having walked back to his box. Georgia ran up to the others and asked in a frantic voice, "Ed, what did you do? What's wrong?" Ed gave a deep frown as he said, "Your stupid box screwed up, that's what. The oxygen tank must've failed or something, because I just about suffocated. If I hadn't done something, I'd probably be dead right now." Georgia rubbed her temples as she shook her head.

"This is bad. This is really bad. I checked all of those things right before we took off. They were in working condition. Even Richie said they were in order before the flight left. Either they malfunctioned from something happening on the plane-" She stopped for a minute, not wanting to say the other thing on her mind.

Guun, however, had no such inhibitions. "Or someone else must've tampered with them prior to the drop." Georgia swallowed and nodded, her face suddenly pale.

"In which case, we have a mole," Georgia said solemnly. Zhang spat into the sand and said, "Well, I don't know about you guys, but I think some idiot screwed up, more like." Suddenly, there was more shouting, and all four turned towards the noise of cursing. That was invariably Nirvana, cursing the crap out of her own box.

"Damn stupid thing! Trying to get me _killed,_ for the love of crap. Why'd it take you guys so long?" she asked raucously from where her box had hit the ground. Kojak wasn't far behind her. The sand kicked up, and everybody winced. The winds were just as fierce as they were back near base, and Ed very much wished that they'd dropped an Octis or a car or some sort of vehicle, even if it was just a bike. Suddenly, Georgia piped up, "We're missing a couple people. Where are Richie and the Terrible Two?" Ed frowned as the others looked around for them as well. Ed spun around in a circle, looking in all directions, but found that he could find them either.

"You think they got dropped late?" Nirvana asked over the wind. Kojak suddenly shouted, "Oi, fellas! I found them! Something's wrong, though, 'cause they's tuggin' on Imal's box! It ain't comin' open!" The big black man was already running across the dunes, and everyone also followed suit to find Richie and Alice trying fruitlessly to tug open a large tan box in the shade of two dunes. Alice was already in tears as she screamed at the box to open, and Richie was busy attempting to get through it with his power tools, which were doing absolutely nothing by the looks of it. Nirvana and Ed skidded down at the same time, landing next to the two.

"It won't open! Open it! He's dying, hurry up!" Alice screeched. In the little window, Imal was turning a ghastly shade of blue underneath his mocha skin, and Edward suddenly realized that the same thing that had happened to his box must've occurred to Imal as well. He shoved both Richie and Alice out of the way, and he clapped his hands before placing them on the box. There was a bright light and a big 'FWUMP' of sand, and everyone waited for it to clear. There was the sound of coughing and gasping before it settled down. Georgia and Kojak stood on the other side, waving away the sand as it cleared.

Imal was gasping on his side, coughing and taking giant gulps of air. The box had been completely split open like a banana peel, and Ed sighed as he stared at it. Richie scratched his head and shook it while Alice tackle-hugged her brother. Georgia's face was troubled as she said, "They've been tampered with. I can believe the team running over one box, but not two. They would've caught either. It doesn't add up, though..." Zhang and Guun looked at each other with worrisome glances.

"Hey, guys, what's up!" Gray shouted cheerily, skipping down a dune as happy as a daisy. Suddenly, he tripped and screamed as he went head over heels, shouting 'OUCH OUCH' every couple of rolls. He finally stopped at Kojak's feet, and he looked up at both Georgia and Kojak. The librarian smiled and looked around at the somber faces before his own cheery expression dropped.

"What? What'd I miss? Why does it look like you guys just had to put down a dog?" They all shook their heads, not the least surprised that Gray had missed everything. Groaning, they began to gather up what supplies they could salvage from Imal's box. "Wait... no, seriously, what happened? Oh, come on, I got stuck and I couldn't find the release button! Guys!"

* * *

"What happened?" she asked. Hilary was watching the main screen carefully. The giant middle sheet of glass on the table had little glowing icons of several tan boxes, as well as a blue airplane and dotted lines showing trajectory. One of them cut out in mid-air, and another one lost the signal after transmitting for a minute and thirty-eight seconds. Mustang wasn't pleased with this, not pleased at all. In fact, she could feel a knife of worry twist her gut. She should've protested this type of entry. She knew she should've. It was crazy. The Crash Coffins were originally used to unload supplies while the other people parachuted out by normal means, but they needed something much stronger this time being so close to the city and their war machines. The boxes were an obvious choice. If they could handle a knock around from 20,000 feet, it could probably last a couple of rounds from a machine gun.

"Dunno. Thing just cut out on us," the intern said in a casual voice as if noting a fly in his soup. Hilary, not exactly appreciating this lack of respect, irately relieved the young man of his seat. She sat down and put on the headphones, leaving the stunned and slightly amazed intern to gape at her as she spoke into the mike.

"Hello? Do you read me?" The voice on the other end was gravelly and tinny.

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you- wait, you're not Jim. Who's this?"

"Hilary Mustang, at your service for the day, Mr.-"

"Horris. Mr. Horris. Don't care what rank y'are, I'm Mr. Horris to you." Mustang smiled slightly. He was a grizzled old pilot that didn't take crap from anyone, screw their rank or how many gold stars they had. Mustang's father had been on a company with him on a campaign out on the Eastern Front when Crete got a little too touchy feely. She nodded and said, "Whatever you say, Mr. Horris. Now, back to business." Her eyes suddenly hardened to two black chips of rock as she asked, "Mr. Horris, did your Crash Coffins pass their pre-flight inspection?"

"Hell yeah, they did. Those boys did a bang-up job makin' sure they was right and tight. Not a screw loose outta any of 'em," Horris said with an air of pride. Mustang noted this. She then asked, "All right, what about the mid-flight check? Was there one?" There was silence at the other end. Mr. Horris was probably vacillating while the plane rode on autopilot. There was a sound of contemplation from Mr. Horris before he said, "You know, those boys did so good with it, I didn't think a mid-flight check was needed. I didn't take one. Why, somethin' happen?"

"That's what we're trying to find out, Mr. Horris," Mustang said as she typed a couple of commands to Program. She answered back quickly, but in a disgruntled manner as if annoyed at being disturbed with whatever she was doing. Mustang frowned at the answers she was getting. These didn't make a whole lot of sense...

There was a sensor inside each box that acted as a tracker that would immediately report back all information to the plane. She didn't know who went into what box, so she had no idea how a sensor would just stop functioning at only 500 feet in the air. Malfunctions like these happened a little bit earlier, closer to 10,000 feet. The one that made it to the floor and konk out was even less explainable, considering the fact the sensors were made for impact. There was no way a fall could destroy them. The sensors had been dropped from the very top of the Hole, for heaven's sake, and they'd still survived the impact. Something wasn't quite right. The readouts that came back with them were troubling too, especially the life support readouts on oxygen and carbon dioxide usages...

"Thank you, Mr. Horris. That's all I needed," Mustang said. She took off the headphones, and she pointed a finger at the intern. She raised an eyebrow and said, "Your spunk may be cute in the classroom, but out here, badasses equal authority." She walked off, leaving him in her wake as the other interns and most of the senior communications officers watched her walk out.

The young intern eloquently answered to this: "Dude."

* * *

"How much farther?" Edward whined. They'd been hiking for _days. _Okay, days was an exaggeration, but Ed had no sense of time out here in the dunes. Everything looked the same. The sun was always too high and too hot. He was sweaty and stinky. He'd been dropped from 20,000 feet, and he would very much like to go and crawl in a bunk, sleep for ten days, and give the world colorful hand signs it might not like. Georgia, fed up with hearing this for what seemed to be the five millionth time, grumbled, "We get there when we get there." Kojak snickered, unable to be at a loss for mirth in this situation. Nirvana had done much the same thing, but she'd finally shut up after the _four _millionth time. It seemed she and Ed were taking turns chafing away at Georgia's nerves, along with Imal's incessant humming and Alice's chattering.

They were probably a couple miles further inland than they would've liked. The caravan they should've caught was a couple miles behind them, and they had to walk to catch up. If they didn't, they'd be wandering the desert blind for the next week before the caravan came back, except going the wrong way. Caravans in the desert generally didn't like to stay there for longer than they had to. Unless they were native desert tribes that had sprung up out of the Ishbalans that had fled to Xing or Drachma, they were usually Aerugonese and Cretan tech-merchants who didn't want to be out in the hot sun for too long. Besides, Patron City, a country within itself, was powerful. Lingering in their lands could be an implied threat, one that they didn't take lightly.

"You said that nearly a mile ago," Ed grumbled under his breath, looking off. He hated the desert. It _all looked the same. _He didn't like it. He hated the feeling of being lost, and this was as lost as someone could get. If it weren't for the little GP-whatever-thingie in Georgia's hand, they'd all be lost as blind mice. The disconcerting uniformity of the dunes was getting old. He needed _something _to break the pattern out here. He looked around a moment, and suddenly his eye caught something strange. He could've sworn something had moved out in the dunes...

"Hey, guys, we're the only ones out here, right?" Edward asked warily. Time had honed his senses to fine tipped points that could sense the barest of stimuli, and he never doubted his instincts. There were times where they'd saved his life just from the sheer knowledge that he wasn't alone. He had that feeling now, and the hairs on the back of his neck had risen. He tightened his grip on the knife he had at his belt, as well as turning his automail into a hard, metal fist. Nirvana noted Edward's obvious wariness, and she too was suddenly on alert as she extended her own senses. The others were continuing on, other than Nirvana, Ed, and, of all people, Imal.

The dark-skinned boy sniffed the air and frowned. Alice looked back with a puzzled expression and asked, "What's the matter with you three? Come on, we've got to keep moving!" The others of the group had also began to notice the reluctance of the three in moving forwards. Edward suddenly took a sweep of sand in his hands, clapped them between, and removed three glass slivers, throwing them. They turned into whistling death, silent and invisible as they hit something very solid. There was a cry of pain, and very suddenly there was the glitter of pixels as fifteen warriors with large spears seemed to appear out of thin air, circling the entire group.

Ed's eyes widened as he stared at them all. They weren't Ishbalan, but they had much the same desert-worn weariness about them. None of them had facial hair, and their faces were thickset and muscled leanly. Their eyes were hard as granite, their hands worn with many little scars that were white against their dark skin. They wore desert clothing, drab and worn cloth that covered their bodies loosely along with a turban that covered most of their faces in shadow, but a strange sort of sheet lay around their feet, and he realized they'd been camoflouged with some type of chameleon-like cloth. Their Crash Coffins had the same technology. A spike of panic was being driven into his stomach, but he wasn't the type to give way to fear. He stood his ground, his hands in a fighting stance. There was plenty of sand, which meant plenty of silicate. Plenty of silicate meant a lot of glass, which was sharp.

They stared at each other for a few tense minutes before Georgia breathed, "Kaida?" One of the darkskinned men straightened up curiously from his fighting stance, his weapon's point dipping towards the ground. He cocked his head to the side as he straightened up reluctantly and asked in return, "Georgia?" He had a thick accent, but the name was recognizable. The other men watched the two, and Georgia said, "Kaida, you know us. We're not enemies. We were supposed to meet up with you. How long have you been tailing us?" Kaida hesitated, and he said in a whisper quiet voice, "These are dangerous times. They have been at it again. Slaving. We're being cautious. They've found ways of putting on another skin, and we wanted to be sure." The other men seemed to relax as Kaida straightened. The man that Edward had wounded winced as he grasped the fine, glass needles and removed them. Edward winced and said, "My bad. I thought I saw someone-"

"No, it's all right. You are... very skilled. Not many realize our presence before we attack," the wounded man said. Richie walked towards him and said, "I'll take care of it." The other men greeted the others, and it didn't take long for Ed to realize that Kojak and Georgia knew most of them by face, if not by name, by the way they very freely hugged or talked with each of them. He walked over to Imal, and he asked, "Who are they?" Imal, lifting an eyebrow, asked, "Didn't you read the brief or at least listen to it?" Edward scratched his face with a finger with a slightly guilty look. Okay, he'd been mentally preoccupied with other things at the time. And the brief was so dry and boring he'd chucked it in favor of playing his favorite little finger game on his commie. He couldn't help it!

Imal sighed in deference, and he answered obligatorily, "They're part of the Han-See tribe. They're very stealthy, considering they're usually hunted as slaves. They're very prideful. I used to be one until my caravan was destroyed. I'm the last of my tribe. The rest are all in Patron City, held as slaves or worse." Ed frowned at this serious piece of information. Imal _did _look an awful lot like the other men, though his facial structure was finer and more delicate than the other, more thickset men. He wasn't the right build either. It occurred to Ed he didn't know how he'd been adopted into the Elric line as an honorary brother. It also occurred to Ed that everyone in this group may have ulterior motives for going to Patron City other than what was essentially grocery shopping on the black market.

Imal had an ax to grind, and could possibly be trying to locate his people. Alice was in it to get medicine for her mother. Kojak was here for Mustang, and Gray had no choice unless he liked his ass filled with lead. Nirvana's motive was the 20th century alchemical notebook, and Georgia's probably went further than just Oasis, too. Richie was just here to be here. Even Ed himself wasn't here just because of Oasis. He'd figured that he'd find answers in Patron City considering his disappearance and slip into the time stream. Father was somehow tied to all this, he knew it. He just had to figure out how.

They started moving again. Ed suddenly wished that they'd dropped an Octis along with everything else. Damn, was he tired! Just like the one trip he'd taken with Armstrong into the desert, the heat sapped his strength. The memory of the strange, wayward Major caused Edward to feel a pang. Sure he'd been weird, but at least he'd been familiar. Armstrong was reliable and a good friend, something he couldn't say for sure of the people he was traveling with. They weren't like the other military officers. He hadn't entrusted his life to them yet, not fully. He'd yet to give them the complete and total benefit of the doubt on anything. There was a difference between being forced to trust someone and trusting them because you knew they were capable and would do everything in their power to keep you alive.

The unending desert landscape continued, and Ed felt homesick again. Despite the fact this was the same country he'd been born it, it was clear that this place was much, much different. Ed suddenly realized he wasn't sure what green looked like anymore. It hit him like a freight train, and he felt an unexplainable feeling of panic. However, it faded as he recalled his home, of all the vegetation and the sheep in their grazing pastures. How different it was from this barren wasteland...

"Ed, snap out of it. We're almost there," Nirvana said with a harsh tone of voice. Ed snapped his head towards her with a glare, and he realized he'd been daydreaming. Why was she so tense? Another feeling of foreboding took him over, and he frowned as he followed Nirvana's line of sight. His eyes flashed open wide as he blinked.

The city was on the horizon. It was absolutely humongous. He couldn't see the end of it. That wasn't amazing in itself, but the fact that from this far away, and he could tell it was far, he could actually see it. The skyscrapers were massive, dotting the entire skyline with spires. A massive chasm separated the city from the rest of the desert. It was like an empty moat, and Ed didn't know how deep it was, but he had no doubt that if he looked down it, he'd never see the bottom. It wasn't long before the massive chasm was visible, nearly a mile wide.

"It's about time," Alice muttered. Ed had to agree with her. The city's skyline was farther back, believe it or not, but that just gave to the vastness of the entire thing. That meant that the skyscrapers were probably bigger than they actually appeared, and they were inside. Little dots flew by, and Edward realized that they must have flying transports given the city's immenseness. He swallowed, suddenly daunted. If he thought their aboveground was big, their belowground had to be absolutely monstrous.

"LOOK OUT!" Ed twirled around, realizing too late that someone had him the back of his shirt. He shouted, flailing about in confusion as someone hefted him on top of something. He had a brief glimpse of someone hauling away Alice before he heard screams and shouts. Several more cries were heard, including Imal's voice screaming over the others as Alice was carried away. Ed realized that he was in a cage of some sort, and he was about to clap his hands when something hot touched the back of his head, and he very suddenly blacked out.

* * *

Nirvana watched the attack with an air of dim detachment. She'd watched with blatant amazement as Ed and Alice were snatched away from them, loaded into caged trucks. These slavers were professionals, and she felt sick to her stomach. She should've known this would've happened. She should've anticipated and watched for them. This close to the city, they were always around, waiting for unsuspecting refugees hoping to break lucky. They had ways of getting over the Abyss without being detected. Technically, slavery wasn't allowed in Patron City, but the slaves were too convenient to get rid of them. They did most of the illegal labors in the city, and besides the Homunculi that ruled the city hardly cared. The more strife they poured into the city, the more the people fed the circle that the city sat on top of. The front that they put up as being an ordinary city in the middle of the desert was just a facade to entice refugees from poorer countries to attempt to make a better life for themselves. It was a trap of the worst kind: false hope.

It had happened so fast, the Han-See hadn't even been able to retaliate. These slavers must've been part of the Pitt group, the best of the best. Families could be torn apart by them, and they wouldn't even realize it until they stopped to count how many they had among them. The only reason why they weren't taken from the ground was due to the fact that there were warriors among them. Nirvana should've sent the Han-See ahead in their camoflouge before trekking forwards, and shame on Georgia for not saying anything either. There was a cloud of dust, and the two slaver trucks with their wire cages and human cargo were gone in the dust.

"ALICE! DAMN IT, LET GO OF ME! ALIIIICE!" Imal was struggling against Kojak, who had the boy pinned to the ground by his arms. He jerked and bucked, but he couldn't throw off that giant bear of a man. Zhang said wearily, "Leave it, Imal. She's gone. You can't fight all of them on your own. Even you can't run as fast as they can drive." Zhang's face was weary and worn out, as if the entire ordeal had aged him by years. Nirvana suddenly realized that Zhang and Guun had never seen a slaving raid happen. It was practically myth in Xing to keep slaves, though they did have a caste system, though it was hardly used any more. Both of them were green, and she didn't blame them. There were a lot of things that could happen to two healthy teenagers on the slave market. Especially for a girl who was as pale as Alice happened to be. Edward, too, his gold hair and eyes were prized. He'd be sold to the highest bidder.

"What do we do? Leave them?" Kojak asked. He let go of Imal once he'd stopped struggling. His face was hard and set. He looked out towards the direction of the trucks. The Abyss wasn't far. Getting across it would be the easy part. Georgia shook her head.

"We need Alice. She can patch up a link to Oasis in seconds without getting caught. Anything going to a foreign source arouses suspicion. Imal's good, but both of them are better. Ed is our best alchemist, though that won't help him much once he's within the city," Georgia reasoned. The sand was the only sound for a few moments before Nirvana started walking towards the city.

"Where are you going?" Richie asked, his voice strained with both fear and resignment. Nirvana only said, "The city. We can get them back." Everyone frowned as they looked at each other. Kojak, though, seemed to be catching on. He began walking with Nirvana. He looked back and shouted, "Hey! Ain't like the mission's disappeared now that we're missin' a few of our group. Keep walking!" The others, realizing the logic behind this reasoning, began to follow Nirvana and Kojak.

It wasn't long before Kojak caught up with the platinum haired alphysicist. He rose one salt-and-pepper eyebrow at Nirvana. Sensing his eyes on her face, Nirvana flickered her own at him before turning back to the front.

"What?" Kojak gave a slight smile. He also looked forwards, noting the Abyss and its proximity. It was almost two miles away, the city being a scant three. Thin bridges that looked like nothing but slivers in comparison to the chasm spanned, small checkpoints at either end checking in refugees and migrants. They wouldn't be entering that way. It would be too likely they'd be recognized or found out for what they were.

"You'll be getting them back, huh?" he asked calmly. Nirvana nodded somberly. Kojak shrugged.

"And how'll you do that?" The voice came from Grayson, who was now catching up to the other two. Nirvana stared at him with a dubious look. Grayson shrugged and said, "I'm curious. Come on, you can't really think we expect you to leave them, right? You've never done it before." She rolled her eyes. Was she really that predictable?

"Yeah, I'll be getting them back. It'll be easy. We'll play it their way, much as I hate it. Besides, this can work to our advantage, them being slaves," Nirvana said. Her eyes shifted back to the others. Georgia was watching her, and no doubt she could hear everything she was saying. The old cow had had hearing augmentations done while in the surgery nearly three years ago after a certain incident. Nirvana kept walking, paying no heed to Georgia's sharp-eyed look.

"How do you get something back and everyone stays happy?" Nirvana asked Grayson. The man chewed over it for a little while. He realized it in a moment, and he gave her a grim look.

"You buy it."

Nirvana nodded. Kojak laughed as she said, "Exactly."


	12. Slave

B I D

The city loomed over the massive chasm that split the entire urban monster from the great emptiness beyond like an island from an ocean. It was man-made; of that, Edward was certain. The walls were sheer and had metal plating on the inside, making it appear as if this were some giant part of a machine that was slumbering in the sand until something comes to wake it up from its pleasant nap. Ed shuddered as he realized that this, like the Hole in the Oasis compound, had a bottom that was so far deep in the ground, it couldn't be seen. To fall from this hieght was to either A)die, B)starve to death before you reached the bottom, or C) kill yourself before you get to either of the first two choices. He pressed towards the middle of the crowded truck along with everyone else, nobody willing to linger around the edges for fear that they might end up thrown off just for the fun of it by the slavers.

The truck that had picked them all up had already been jam-packed with people. They were all of different colors and clothing, jewelry having already been stripped of them as well as of whatever money that they'd had with them. They were the destitute, those poor people who couldn't afford a plane ticket, so they had to go either by foot, by car, or by camelback to get to this city that seemed to gleam with opportunity, but instead hid an infestation of vermin and a stink of the foundations that were built upon the backs of people just like them. They were touched with prods that buzzed, causing them to jump and scream while the slavers laughed, pointing fingers and giggling like children who'd found a new and interesting toy. They spoke in a language Ed didn't understand, but he didn't have to whenever one of them swung the prod at him. Edward knew better than to knock it away, only staring at the man behind the prod with a harsh, intense glare.

"Ed, don't," Alice warned quietly. Her eyes pleaded with him, and Edward backed away from the prod, never taking his eyes off the man who was holding it. The slaver grinned, two of his teeth missing and a third one broken. He wished he could add a couple more broken teeth to the count, but at the moment, the slaver happened to be sitting on top of the wire mesh covering their vehicle. The truck was the size of a semi, and the bottom half of the cart they were in was just metal, hard and uncomfortable to either sit or stand on. The top half was a wire mesh that slavers hung on to, and it was clear that they were adept at what they did because they handled the rough roads with ease while still clinging to the mesh. They drove along the bumpy road alongside the massive, three kilometer chasm, heading towards a bridge that spanned across. From where they were at, the bridge looked like a small tunnel made of nothing more than spiderwebs of metal, and the unwilling passengers of the truck whispered among themselves fearfully in their own languages.

"Don't worry. The bridge will hold us," Alice told Ed, who'd been having doubts of his own. Ed looked at Alice, and he frowned, still in disbelief.

"How the hell is something like that supposed to get us across?" Ed asked, pointing to it. He could see tiny cars and other vehicles crossing the spiderweb bridge, and he wondered how they didn't fall into the abyss below. Alice explained, "Just because this place is the lion's den doesn't mean that everything they do turns out wrong. They studied spiders, and found that the designs for their web and their silk are stronger than most steel compounds synthesized today, so they copied them and made this. It's incredibly lightweight, efficient, cost-effective, and it's a nice aesthetic piece." Ed suddenly cut a look at her as he asked, "And how is it that you know all this?"

She gave him a blank look. "You didn't read your dossier sheet, did you?" Ed blinked and sheepishly grimaced. There was no way he'd remember all the stuff on that sheet...

Finally, after another hour of riding, they came up to the bridge. Several of the soon-to-be slaves attempted to break free, beating against the mesh. Several traders came with their prods, and they left him a twitching heap on the floor. Ed watched in horror as they zapped him over and over again long after he'd been knocked down, children screaming and burying their faces into their mother's legs or the nearest legs they could find if they'd been separated from their parents. Edward looked away as the slavers laughed and finally scurried away to other parts of the truck, watching ahead for the bridge. Ed suddenly was covered in darkness, and he realized that something had been thrown over the mesh of the truck. He frowned, and he found that it was just cloth, nothing fancy_. Talk about a paper-thin disguise_, Edward thought to himself. He could easily beat against the walls of this thing and get them noticed, ruining their operation, but it occurred to Ed that someone had probably done that before.

_We're in the lion's den_, Alice had said_, but it's not that everything they do turns out wrong_. What if this was one of those things that _did _turn out wrong? Slaves were sanctioned, and they let them come in? They just hide them from the rich populace who were able to afford a ride into the city? Ed realized what was going on, and it settled on him a hopelessness. How were they going to get out of this one? At the least, the cover had the effect of a cloth bag over an ostrich's head. Everyone had calmed down considerably, possibly because they couldn't see the chasm that must be only three feet underneath the wheels of their truck. Ed tried hard to push that thought out of his mind. The Hole had been bad enough. This was worse. Edward swallowed hard as he felt them go past a checkpoint somewhere along the road, and then keep trundling along. The cover stayed on, and the road became smoother. Ed sighed to himself as he stood up, pacing. Alice just watched him, finding his back-and-forth motions oddly comforting.

At last, they started a downwards journey, and Edward frowned. There was an underground to this place? He'd always imagined that the underground would be a lot more, well, figurative at the least. He'd even thought that they'd embrace the idea of coming out with the underground in normal life, just because this was a city run by homunculi. He sucked in a huge breath and let it out, slowly thinking to himself about what he could do. He could easily bust out of here in a matter of minutes. He hadn't because he figured that he'd end up stuck out in the desert for days on end, and he'd die pretty quick if he did that. Despite his knowledge with alchemy, he didn't know how to survive in a desert on his own without gear or a guide of some sort. For once, he'd actually thought things through. Then again, this was a different environment. He couldn't just do what he normally did. Which usually entailed a good deal of recklessness and stupidity, though it worked nonetheless.

Finally, they stopped. The people in the truck looked around cautiously, wondering what exactly was going on, and the cover was thrown off of the top of the car. They had arrived at a very large warehouse. The slavers yelled at their merchandise as they opened a door, and people spilled out in relief that they could be anywhere else instead of that cramped car-

Only to be stuffed into a much more claustrophobic pen.

Edward felt anger well up in him as he watched the children abused by the slavers, being kicked and scared as they jumped out with their prods towards them and made gruesome faces. In some cases, they'd speak the kids' language, and whatever they were saying must've frightened them because they turned white underneath their complexion, even if they were brown-skinned and curly haired. Ed's hands curled into fists, but Alice laid a hand on his shoulder, shaking her head.

_You'll make it worse_, she mouthed, and Edward yanked his shoulder out from underneath her hand. He began walking towards one of the slavers, one of who had pulled out a prod on one of the smaller kids, no more than a preteen. He shoved the man in the shoulder, and he said, "Why don't you pick on someone your own size, you coward?" The man, his face covered in scars and a tattoo creeping up his neck towards his ear, looked at him in confusion for a moment before realizing what was going on. The entire place seemed to have frozen. The slaves watched as the slavers merely stoodby in curiosity as to what their compatriot would do. He smiled and he laughed, pointing at Ed with one yellow, bitten fingernail and said some things that made the other slavers laugh.

Without warning, he swung his prod at Ed's head, and Edward ducked. The alchemist kicked the feet out from underneath the trader, and before he knew it, Ed himself was on the ground, ten other traders holding him. He struggled, and, realizing he was trapped, desperately attempted to put his hands together to make a clap, but before he could, both his hands were outstretched and put palm-down on the ground while several traders sat on his arms and legs. They'd run this drill before. Edward stopped struggling, and the man he'd kicked got up with a sullen look on his face. He walked over, and he lifted Edward's chin with his boot.

"You big boy, eh? You think you big boy? You hurt. You going hurt, now, Big Boy," the man said in convoluted Amestrian, spitting in his face. Edward continued to glare, even as spittle dripped over his cheek. He heard a sound behind him, and he felt something cold settle in his gut. It was a saw.

"You know what that, huh? Yeah, it hurt now. It hurt really, really bad," the man said with relish. Edward started to struggle again, fear icing through his veins as he attempted to break free. He scrabbled to draw something on the concrete floor, but he couldn't find any purchase. He remembered the Sharpie marker in his pant leg, and he suddenly wished he had it in his hand.

The saw was in his line of sight, now, just above the shoulder of his automail arm where it connected to the shoulder plating that Winry had hand-constructed with care and precision and more than a little love. Ed realized what was going to happen to him, and he felt as if he were in some cheap horror flick where the person was chopped apart piece by piece for the entire movie, with no regard to plot. His pupils dilated as the whirring filled his ears.

Alice looked away just as the screaming started and the squeal of metal on metal reached her ears.

* * *

"Where do we start?" Kojak asked incredulously, the city's hustle and bustle going past him at what seemed like fifty miles per hour. Vehicles hummed through the air, in the streets_, under _the streets. They'd gotten past the checkpoint with their fake IDs and passports, easy as blinking. The team had decided it was best to stay together instead of splitting up like their original plan had entailed before Alice and Edward were kidnapped. Nirvana brushed a hand through her blonde hair, the pile of white-platinum already beginning to frizz and poof from both her hands running through it and the chemicals in the air from so many exhaust tanks spewing out their curses to mankind. She frowned and said, "I'll have to ring up a few friends of mine, see what slave-markets are going right now. Several of them shut down for a few weeks so they can regain more of their merchandise before going on the markets again, and they trade of in collaboration with some other trader that's nearby. There's always a few of them going at once. I'll see what I can find on the job market. They won't have tagged them yet, though, so I don't know what I'll find on the register."

"We'd better hurry, then. How much do you think this will cost," Georgia asked brusquely, hands in pockets and eyes on everyone that passed by. Nirvana frowned and said, "For a white girl like Alice, I'd say close to a quarter of a million credits. Maybe a little more." Georgia winced. Their budget was close to three million credits. That took out a nice chunk right there. She looked at the blonde girl again, and she asked, "And what about Edward? Blonde hair, gold eyes, white skin, and automail leg and arm?" Nirvana took a moment to contemplate. The market didn't have many blondes, and they were pretty pricey. Usually, they were rich people who'd gotten in with the wrong bus, and ended up kidnapped. Their relatives most usually bought them back as a slave, and then let them have their freedom- and the creepier families _kept _them as slaves for... certain other purposes. She sighed, trying to remember the slave-markets she'd gone to with fellows of hers that were partial to slavery. She shook her head, and she answered, "Edward will be at least two million credits, without a bidding war going. If there is a bidding war, I'd say that he'd probably end up nearly four million to eight million credits. Depends on how bad they want him and what they want him for."

Zhang and Guun looked at each other.

"Does she mean-"

"Yeah. That's what she means."

Zhang shuddered, and he said, "Well, I certainly hope we've got enough to buy him. If he's up to two million, we're in luck, then, right?" Nirvana raised an eyebrow.

"Don't worry too much about it. If we don't have enough in Oasis' account because they're cheapskates, I can pay off whatever's left from my own account," Nirvana said nonchalantly. Kojak cast a glance at Georgia, who gave Nirvana an incredulous look. Nirvana was not one for charity, so this was a bit of a surprise. Suddenly suspicious, Georgia asked, "And why exactly are you going to pay for the rest of them?" Nirvana glanced back blandly, and she stated, "Ed's a challenge, and Alice is actually the only person who's ever called me a jerkass. I like 'em both." She continued to walk off, typing something on a cheap Commie that she'd bought as soon as they'd gotten into the city.

"This smells fishy. I don't like having to buy them both back," Georgia whispered to Kojak. She kept her eyes on Grayson as he wandered around in a childlike daze watching the advertisements flash and the people mill about. The city had changed in the past ten years, and he'd been on the original mission that hadn't come back. Well, more precisely put, that _mostly _hadn't come back. He was one out of two who'd survived long enough to trek all the way back to the bunker. Zhang and Guun were tense, right behind him. They didn't trust the city or its pretty lights and its hawking salesmen.

"I don't either, Georgia. It seems a little too coordinated, for me. But then again, who knows? Maybe it was coincidence," Kojak muttered in a low voice, his dark eyes scanning the area. The big man easily towered over many of the city's inhabitants, a stark contrast as he looked like a massive, onyx pillar with lots and lots of tan-skinned natives and white-skinned plutocratics milling around him through the street. They were currently in the better-off part of the city where Nirvana said that she had a place for them. It was just another thing Georgia thought was fishy. She didn't like any of this, not at all.

"Kojak, of all people, I would've thought you'd believe in coincidence the least. What happened to your all-seeing, all-knowing, benevolent God, huh?" Georgia asked acerbically, and Kojak gave a rumbling chuckle. He answered back, "God does put us in certain places for certain reasons. We poor little mortals can't exactly see what his plan is. Besides, it seems to be working towards Nirvana's advantage, by that look on her face." The white-blonde alchemist was looking smug as she started walking back towards the two veterans. Georgia sighed, and said, "That's what I don't like. Her having an advantage."

For several more minutes, they continued walking. The crowds seemed to thin out a bit, but they would suddenly surge out of nowhere again before dissipating. It was a strange phenomenon that the two Xingese emissaries noticed as they studied the faces of those passing by. Finally, Zhang asked Grayson quietly, "Hey, what's with the people? This is really weird." Grayson frowned and asked, "What do you mean?" Zhang, realizing that Grayson probably either hadn't noticed or wasn't connecting the dots, extrapolated, "The crowds. See, they come out of nowhere, and then they go, and then they come again."

"Different rush hours," Nirvana answered in a distracted tone. She was looking for something. She elaborated on this, saying, "There are different shifts of the city around here. It's so big that it needs three different sort of days for different people, especially for the poor unders."

"Unders?" Zhang asked. Guun was equally confused.

"Yeah. Underground dwellers. Lowest of the low, living at the lowest levels of the city. This place goes almost as far underground as Oasis," Nirvana explained, "and they've got different levels and hatches. The people up in the Eyrie, the ones living at the top level, never see the little humdrums living at the bottom of the heap because there are special paths only they take. We're on one of the middle levels right now, so it's not so bad." Nirvana's ears seemed to twitch to the sound of the city, her body almost appearing to be in tune with the city. She was in her element, a street rat who knew every nook and cranny of the place. She looked back at her little band of travelers, and she said,"Where we're going, though, we need to be deep underground. That's where everything happens. The city practically runs on the underground. Literally."

After several more twists and turns down alleys and backways, they came to a strange covered walkway that led into darkness. Nirvana went in, the bustle of people suddenly flooding the stairs as another shift changed.

"What shift is this?" Zhang asked, looking at familiar slanted eyes and olive skin. The people moving around didn't seem too well off, but they weren't exactly in disrepair either. Nirvana didn't look back. Grayson, watching closely with strangely narrowed and curious eyes, answered Zhang, "Slant shift, is what they call it. Most Xingese work this shift on the middle levels. It starts pretty early in the day, but not too early, breaks once at one for lunch, breaks again at six, and then everyone goes home at about eight. The middle levels get particularly heavy during the six-o'-clock shift. It's when a lot of the stalls for shark open, and shark is a commodity that only replenishes every seven hours, so once it goes, it's gone for the day."

"Replenishes?" Zhang asked. He knew that his people ate, primarily, fish and lots of rice, but shark was a delicacy. It was sold in the finest shops becuase of their rarity considering they were partially landlocked. There were only three types of shark in Xing, living in the large rivers. Grayson winced, and he said, "Grown in tanks. They're... they're grown in tanks, and they mature after seven hours. The tech is so expensive only a few of the restauranteurs can afford it. The actual shark growers are underground. Shark is supposed to be outlawed, but they don't really care." Zhang shivered, his eyes closing. The shark was considered an almost reverent and sacred animal. To hear something so grotesque as growing them like they were beasts of slaughter instead of the masters of rivers...

"Hey, Slant-Eyed Freak, you wanna catch up? I'm not gonna wait." Hearing the slur, Zhang's eyes cut to Nirvana, who was standing in the middle of the crowd, looking oddly domineering in the low lighting underground. Her eyes were shadowed, but they held a strange sort of glow. For a moment, they flashed from green straight to gold, a sheen reminiscent of cats in the dark. Her black jacket and tanktop gave her a stringy look. Behind her Kojak was reading a sign for different parts of the city as they were in some sort of train station. Georgia was discussing how much they could afford, and Guun put a large hand on Zhang's shoulder.

"Let it go," he whispered quietly, though his voice hummed through the air in that way all the Meis seemed to possess. Even his tiny, itsy bitsy grandmother had the ability to make a person feel as if her voice were flowing through them. Perhaps that was what made them such good dignitaries. Zhang nodded, and he ambled over to the group waiting. They took a train through the city, and several of their stops were dark-lit and foreboding as they angled downward more and more. Finally, they came to the lowest point of the eliptical track the subway ran on. The doors opened with a quiet hiss, and a meager amount of people got off, their looks suspicious and apprehensive. Nirvana breathed in the pollution with gusto, nostalgia filling her lungs as she inhaled the familiar scent of tar, mold, mildew, and a myriad of other miasmatic odors. Georgia made a face, and Kojak even jolted a step as the smell hit him. Zhang didn't bother disguising his disgust as he made a loud, "Euch!" Guun held up a small hankie to his nose, looking around at the dismal station, which could've hardly been called such. Imal was also less than enthusiastic. Grayson, however, had a bounding enthusiasm all of a sudden as he ran forwards.

"I've never been this deep! They never let us go the... last..." He trailed off as his eyes took a very far away look. He seemed to be somewhere very far off in that moment, and Georgia felt her heart go out to him. That last excursion to the lion's den had ended horribly, with nearly twenty of their best either dead or beyond help. Three they'd had to kill themselves because they'd been driven mad with the interrogation they'd suffered when the homunculi got a hold of them. Though the homunculi were not infallible, they were horribly effective. Georgia did not remember the exact ramifications of the trip, but she knew that Grayson, their one survivor, most likely had to kill one of the three personally. She shook her head as she put a hand on his shoulder.

"You get to go for them, Grayson," she said quietly. The others had passed Grayson as he'd trailed off, not understanding why he'd stopped... other than Kojak. Still, the large black man decided that there wasn't much he could do in that regard. Grayson's bubbly exterior hid a tumultuous amount of survivor's guilt and pain. Even Mustang understood this, and she let him do what he willed. They continued on.

Finally, they reached a grimy street with a high ceiling of nasty look rock and walkways made of rotten ropes and wood, even cardboard. The houses were tall, but they were disgusting looking, grimy faces flashing past in the windows. They were obviously underground as there were large walls of rock between several buildings where the dwellings had to be cut out. The city had started from the top and worked it's way both up and down. A stark contrast was to be had here from Oasis, where the lower you went the cleaner it became. Here, it was nothing but filth and pain. Nirvana ignored it stolidly, walking through patches of sunshine from above, the ceiling of rock not much more than a thin sheet of one way glass, made alchemically from the rock so that the ones below could see the ones above but not the other way around. In places, a meager amount of light poured in, but other than that fluorescent lights flourished alongside LEDs and harsh mercury vapor lamps.

A door set inside of a large, warehouse looking building was soon revealed, the thin roads slowly thickening out so that cars and other vehicles could crawl in. Walkways above their heads seemed to hang suspended by some precarious magic that caused anxiety as they appeared to sway. Nirvana prowled down the street to the warehouse, ignoring the moanings and pleadings of the excuses for human life that were scrabbling across the ground outside. The others followed behind her with a suspicious air. This wasn't their sort of place, and these were probably not their sort of people.

"Do you wish to park your vehicle in our underground storage space?" an electronic voice asked from a screen adjacent to the door. The others were not surprised by this, though some of the other vagrants groveling around their feet seemed to bow in worship to the voice.

"No," Nirvana tersely answered, and the electronic voice said, "Affirmed. What is your ID and password? We wish to assure that you are in the right place at the right time." Nirvana smirked. What they really meant was that she needed to have enough money in her account before she could go in and start bidding at what was supposed to be an illegal sale of human flesh.

"ID: 13-1-19-19," Nirvana said. For her password, she tapped the screen a number of times before suddenly the door whooshed open.

"Please wait while we identify you," the cool electronic voice said. The vagrants attempted to enter through the door, and they were immediately shocked for their efforts as an electric arc flashed between the nodes set in the door. The vagrant lay smoking at the group's collective feet, not even twitching. Zhang and Guun stared in abject horror. The two grizzled veterans didn't even flinch, though remorse did flash in Kojak's eyes, and Grayson whimpered for a moment. For a moment it seemed the librarian would rush to the downed schizoid, but he refrained. They walked through the door when a green light flashed on the screen next to the door with a smiley face that seemed much too bright for this environment.

There seemed to be some sort of airlock inside of the building, a small gray room with nothing and no one inside. The door shut behind them, and Grayson seemed to be jumping out of his skin with anxiety. Though all of the travelers were used to being underground, being in enclosed spaces such as this was not exactly welcome. Finally, after a scan on their persons had been done for any weapons (or, rather, weapons that were new to the slavers operating the scanner machine), the door opened to controlled hell.

Inside was a large crowd. There were people of all colors and dress, all shouting at each other in a room about the size of a football field. Half of it was taken up by a pen packed with people. The Oasis members marveled, save for Nirvana, who coolly began to walk through the shouting matches and the loud noises of a photon laser going off, complete with dust drifting from the ceiling. They followed along hesitantly, the tone for the entire journey ultimately being set. Nirvana was their leader. Step in her steps, and all would be well. Step _out _of her steps, and some thug with a photon would put a tunnel in one of their heads big enough to make the Hole back at home look like a pinprick. Uneasily, they edged towards some seats as Nirvana navigated the crowd with lithe ease and seeming confidence.

The pen that was hardly twenty feet ahead of them was set on a platform much like a stage, which was mockingly adorned with gold and red curtains as well as a podium and a large scoreboard in the back that showed the scores. The stage was well worn with the sweat, and tears of thousands of would-be slaves, and already it was smeared with the day's haul's blood. At the moment, a dark-skinned man dressed in a mockery of an outfit similar to a ringleader's gestured to a piece of merchandise on a stand, held in a cage nearly ten feet off the ground. He shouted encouragement as the price ramped up on the scoreboard, the names of bidders flashing for seconds at a time as the price changed.

The number of the slave, the information of the slave such height and weight, and a picture of the slave was posted on the scoreboard, and it was this little picture that they watched. Though Grayson, Georgia, Kojak, Richie, Imal, and the emissaries from Xing seemed extremely tense, Nirvana seemed to be right in her element. A couple of the would-be slave owners actually greeted her by name with a large, cocky smile and a handshake, which Nirvana never gave. She simply nodded at them with a smirk of her own, and she turned her attention back to the scoreboard. She accessed it using her own Widget, and she watched the pen carefully as well as the scoreboard.

"There they are!" Richie suddenly said, pointing to the pen. Nirvana flashed her a look, and Richie lowered his hand. Already, several of the traders were looking at them funny, glancing between the odd group in their strange military clothes to the pen that Will had been pointing at. Nirvana scanned the pen, and she asked, "Where?" Georgia, however, not one to be put out, growled out, "Hey, this is my mission. Where?" Both Nirvana and Georgia looked at Richie with intense gazes as the young mechanic squirmed. He answered quietly, "They're to the furthest left behind the crowd of guys with the tattoos on their heads." All in that company turned their heads to see that, yes, behind the skinheads, there were two familiar faces, one of which looked pained and the other which looked particularly frightened.

"Wait... What's wrong with Ed?" Kojak muttered under his breath, hardly heard over the clamor of several bidders shouting at the scoreboard as a rare blonde was bought for nearly 8 mil in credits. Nirvana shrewdly stared, but she couldn't see from this angle, not clearly. He was holding something, but she couldn't see it. Suddenly, Alice was grabbed from behind, and she let out a piercing scream that was swallowed by the cacophony of noise in the warehouse. Nirvana's eyes flashed.

"How much is in our budget again?" Nirvana asked quietly. Georgia took a beat before answering, "Three mil. No more, no less." Nirvana looked at the prisoners in the pen. All of them were dark-skinned, dark-haired, and brown-eyed. The white skinned girl was going to cost more than what she'd originally thought. The market was becoming exclusively darker and darker, and that meant that the white skinned ones were going to cost a lot more than usual. She only saw two or three in a pen full of thousands, and those just barely. She typed furiously onto her Widget, her fingers flying as she raced to beat some of the more competitive buyers. After seven minutes of fierce bidding wars, Nirvana sat back with a thankful sigh.

"How much?" Zhang asked. Nirvana showed him, and he winced.

Georgia echoed, "How much?"

"Almost two mil." Georgia kept her composure.

"And how much for Ed?" Nirvana rubbed her temples, staring at the scoreboard, mentally calculating just how much Edward was going to cost in this market. She'd estimated a good four to eight mil. Now, she had to recalibrate. With a sigh of resignation, she said, "Nearly eleven mil. The last blond went for eight mil, and he was tanned with green eyes. Ed's going to be much more expensive because of his eyes, his automail, and his strength. It's obvious he's strong, but he's also pretty." She smirked, letting that sink into their heads, and several of the younger teammates winced with looks of disgust. Nirvana looked back up. Edward was next.

"Aaaaaaalrighty folks! This is the next one, and he's a real kicker! We're gonna have one of our old-fashioned bids! We'll narrow it down between three bidders, and we'll take it from there!" the ringmaster shouted into a microphone, and the warehouse went mad. Over the noise, Will asked, "Why are they going nuts? What's going on?" Nirvana tried to shout back, but it wasn't working. There were too many people and too much noise. She gestured to Kojak as she furiously began to bid. Kojak took Willow by the shoulder and shouted, "It's an auction! It's to stir up a frenzy, get people to buy more!" Willow nodded and sat back down.

Ed's picture appeared on the board, but they didn't bring him out. They had labeled him a five foot, four inch Xerxian, one of the finest and one of the rarest sort of human on Earth. No doubt, they'd guessed that he was Xerxian, despite the fact the race died out long ago, merely for the market value's sake. They needed to ramp it up as high as it could go, though at about a mil a pop, they were doing pretty good at the moment. There were other slavers who hardly did as well, only making three grand a pop, sometimes less. These guys were flying high. At the sight of his picture, the room rang with shouting as the bidding began, and potential buyers were beat out by people with deeper pockets.

The bidding was extremely fierce. The room was stifling with the amount of people crammed inside, and they were all sweating profusely. The smell of humanity permeated the air, slamming into the faces of people. Nirvana constantly had sweat dripping off her nose as she concentrated all her efforts on beating out the latest bidder with a higher bid, no matter what it was. She didn't want to bid too high on the first couple of rounds, because that made her a target for scrutiny, and she'd rather fly under the radar for now. She was a regular at these sorts of things, bidding more of the fun of it than the actual profit of slavery. Looking up, she saw that there were three people in the lead at the moment, and the countdown on the ten minute bid time was closing in fast. Finally, the scoreboard's clock hit zero, and the ringleader announced the winning three bidders who would take turns bidding off the final price on the scoreboard.

"First bidder and in the lead is Graden Flaubage!" A man sporting a body builder's physique, a _very _small tube top, micro shorts, and a mustache as well as an almost completely bald pate stood up in triumph with a smug look on his face. The way he put his hands on his hips screamed _camp, _but then again, this _was _Patron City. He wiggled his eyebrows at the pen, and there was an audible crash as Ed, no doubt, attempted to break his way out of the fencing. A swift electrical charge soon changed that.

"Second bidder and a regular to the Flesh Circus, our own Lady Ramberg!" A stately woman wearing mink and several gun belts around her waist that were very real stood up, swishing back platinum hair (which Nirvana could tell was implanted, the fake). She waved sarcastically to the pen, and her two meaty bodyguards stood up as she began to walk towards the front row of seats where Flaubage was also sitting.

"And third highest, an old face we all can appreciate: Reno Sorstern!" The group slumped into their seat. Suddenly, Nirvana stood up and smirked, and it took the group a minute to realize that, actually, this was an alias. Several hundred groaned in the room collectively as the spot was stolen, the code on the board finally given a face and a name. Nirvana walked towards the front row, leaving the Oasis group feeling lost and slightly apprehensive as they realized that Nirvana no longer provided that strange protection she seemed to have possessed. Georgia's hand itched near her gun, but Kojak grabbed her wrist with a gentle, though very firm, pressure.

"Not. Here." Georgia's eyes were hard, and she nodded, putting her hand back into her lap after he'd let it go.

Nirvana promptly threw herself into the nearest seat, glancing at Flaubage and Ramberg with looks of pompous nonchalance, giving them a small wave. They purveyed her coldly and looked off. Nirvana rolled her eyes. She'd seen Flaubage before (he was a total fruit, with an entourage of boys specifically for his 'special needs'), and Ramberg's dirty work was well known among Nirvana's circle of informants and contacts within the city, which didn't number many these days. Both of them were stiff competitors in this arena, and she hated to have to try and butt heads with either. Flaubage dealt in products of a very unsavory kind, and Ramberg was best equated with a mafia boss who issued out protection to 'investors.' Both of them were ruthless. Both of them also happened to be rich.

What was best, though, was that both were exceedingly proud. _Pride before a fall,_ Nirvana thought quietly to herself, hardly able to hear over the clamor of the warehouse. Suddenly, it went dead silent as the ringleader raised a hand. They brought out the merchandise in question, a steer to the slaughter. Nirvana suddenly sat up straight, leaning forwards with her arms on her knees as she watched Ed traverse the stage. There was a quiet hush of voices as they watched him move to the cage, his captors careful with him.

Ed didn't look the worse for wear. His face was sweaty and dirty, but that gave him a hangdog, strong look that emphasized his light hair and eyes. His posture was still proud, and his walk was still decisive. Even so, there was something not quite right about the way he ambled towards his pedestal, as if he was a little thrown. Nirvana narrowed her eyes, his left side facing her. One of his pant legs had been cut so that the automail could glimmer through, and Nirvana held her breath, wondering if they actually knew what year it came from and where it might've originated. If that was true of them, they were screwed. Information, once found, was never kept contained within the city. Even the presence of the homunculi was common knowledge, though it was never explicitly stated. Upon closer inspection, Nirvana noticed that the sheen of sweat wasn't the only thing present on Ed's face, but tear tracks. The dirt had run down his face in vertical lines, leaving tracts of lightly tanned skin behind.

He finally stepped on the pedestal, and the Oasis group collectively inhaled sharply. Richie bunched his hands into fists. Kojak remained stoic, though his nostrils were flared. Zhang was up in arms, but Guun restrained him. Georgia could only look. Imal gulped audibly.

Ed's metal arm was cradled in his left, while the empty socket glared with a bright, accusing light from the factory lights overhead. Imal whispered, "That... That must've been painful." Others in the room were also slightly sympathetic, but not quite. They were more interested in whether this was affect the cost, and whether or not the arm could be replaced.

"Here's our best piece that was acquired today. Yeah, it's beat up a bit, and it's a little rough around the edges, but give it a bath and a good spit 'n shine, and it'll be good as new! That arm can be fixed easy, with just a trip to your local automail engineer, though this one's got an old model on it, something circa 1914 or so. Kinda makes you wonder where it got that, eh?" Nirvana could've spit. They _could _tell when it was from. At least they probably only figured that it was an old model that was scavenged and stuck on haphazard. Still, to have an arm removed, even if it was a fake... Nirvana rubbed her own shoulder, fighting the urge to wince. Flaubage was only staring at Ed hungrily, and Ramberg was stroking her chin as if she had an imaginary beard there. Nirvana felt slightly sick to her stomach as she really thought about it. She was actually _buying _Ed. How wrong did that sound? What was worse, was thinking about Ed being bought by either of these two scuzzbags.

Finally, the announcer said, "And you guys know how this works. You yell out your bid, starting at 11 mil in creds. After that, whoever's highest gets the grand prize." He jerked a thumb towards the Amestrian soldier standing on the platform, and all three looked at him wolfishly. The announcer smirked, realizing that they would be eating very, very well tonight.

The other bidding battles were going to be nothing in comparison to this. This wasn't just a battle. Between these three, it'd be a war.


	13. Auction

O W N E D

Ed felt sweat drip down his back as he stared at the three potential owners that looked at him hungrily as if he were a side of beef. He felt a small well of anger begin to spring open, but he kept his temper in check. His arm was a reminder that, around here, his usual tactics of angry attacks and random outbursts were going to do him no good. Somehow they'd managed to practice caution for every single sort of contingency. Perhaps it was because they'd been at it so long. He stared at Nirvana, and he met her eyes briefly. Though she had the same hungry look the others were wearing, it was slightly tempered by the fact that she wasn't doing this merely for her own benefit. Perhaps.

"All right, let's start the bid!" the ringleader announced, waving his cane. Edward had the urge to smack him in the head with his metal arm, but there were two guards on either side of his cage waiting with metal prods that sparked with electrical hell. He hated those things with a passion. They _hurt. _Instead, he sighed and looked back down at the crowd in front of him. They were holding their breath, obviously intent on seeing who would win this bidding war for the pretty blonde boy in the cage. Ed, figuring this was going to be a while, sat down wearily, deciding it wasn't worth the effort to stand up and watch these people buy him.

"11 mil," Nirvana started off. A mike somewhere caught her voice and amplified it, and there were some grunts of assent.

"11 and a half," Ramberg said gruffly, eyeing Nirvana. The two stared at each other with steelly stares, but Ramberg looked away first. There was a period of silence before Flaubage said with a slight lisp, "12 mil and a half." He turned back to Ramberg and said in a sickly sweet tone, "Sorry, sweetie." He looked up at Ed and winked. Ed shivered as he scrambled as far back in the cage as he was allowed. Nirvana had better win this. Ed would rather commit suicide rather than belong to _him. _God only knew what he wanted him for, and Ed had a general idea, which he really didn't like. Nirvana, eyeing the hardly clad man, answered to that, "13 mil."

Ramberg narrowed her eyes. Ed could see her jaw tense, and the entire warehouse was holding its breath, even the would-be slaves behind him in their pen. Ramberg was probably hitting her max at the moment. She finally said, "13 and a half mil." Nirvana, smelling weakness, smiled with sharp teeth and said, "14 mil." Ramberg cursed vehemently, and Ed could see Kojak covering Imal's ears. Ed had the urge to laugh as the haughty, mink-and-bullet clad woman strode off in a huff. She'd been bought out, and she knew it. She sat down sulkily, a teenager whose rights to an electronic gizmo had just been revoked. Her bodyguards stood stolidly behind her, never once looking at their charge. Edward realized she couldn't have been more than eighteen years old, and he laughed out loud. He was glad that she just got bought out! He would've either been her pet or her whipping boy. Possibly both...

Now it was between that ambiguously orientated man and Nirvana, and Edward didn't need half a brain to know he'd rather be bossed around by the platinum haired girl rather than a guy who wore spandex too much. Nirvana and Flaubage squared off, and Ed could hear low voices as they talked, no doubt condescending the other. Finally, there seemed to be some unspoken agreement as they both remained quiet. Flaubage said, "15 million credits." Nirvana's eyes narrowed as she rebuked, "15 and three quarters." The air could've been diced up into chunks of tension ladened molecules. Edward eyed the Oasis team, their bodies stiff as boards. Everyone in the building was dripping sweat, and it wasn't because of the heat. Edward leaned forwards. How much higher could they go?

"16 mil and three quarters." Flaubage lifted one perfectly sculpted eyebrow, and Edward realized that Nirvana must be reaching for the bottom of her piggy bank. He felt dread well in the bottom of his stomach. He didn't want to be owned by that guy! He seemed nice enough, but Ed didn't swing that way! He'd go kicking and screaming first! Ed turned white, blue bullets dripping down his face as he stared at the two competitors. Nirvana finally said, "17 mil."

"18 mil."

"18 and a quarter."

"18 and a half."

"19 mil."

"20 mil."

There was a commotion. The ringleader looked up at the board, and he whistled. Ed could tell he really wasn't worth that much, but the both of them kept driving up the price, each one determined to own him for their own reasons. The Oasis group had started to deflate, realizing that if this went any longer, Nirvana was eventually going to hit rock bottom. Oasis had already spent a good portion on getting Alice, and now Nirvana had to try and buy Ed. The alchemist gripped the mesh of the cage. There was a hush, and it seemed like it was over. Flaubage looked decidedly pleased as Nirvana stood there, eyes transfixed on the man in deep frustration.

He hopped up and down, clapping daintily as he leaned forwards and asked teasingly, "What? Cat got your tongue?" Nirvana lifted an eyebrow, a mockery of the dainty man's own gesticulation not too long ago.

"30 mil."

Now there was dead air. No one was breathing. Everyone was dripping beads. Flaubage stared at Nirvana with wide eyes. He blinked, his make-up running in the human-created heat. He swallowed and asked, "30 million credits?" The ringleader looked back at one of the more well dressed fellows behind him, probably a proprietor of the slave auction. The well-dressed man whispered something in his ear, and the ringleader coughed into his hand.

"Congratulations, Ms. Reno, that is _the highest _bid on record to date. Flaubage, do you want to counter that?" the ringleader asked, greed shining in his eyes like little dollar signs. Flaubage looked flabbergasted, and he sighed in a dramatic and miffed fashion, stating, "No, thank you, Johnny, I do _not _want to counter that." He glared at Nirvana, and he muttered a word that looked a whole lot like "ditch." Nirvana only looked smugly up at Ed. The blonde alchemist was hanging limply from the mesh, sighing with relief. He looked down at his new owner, and she smirked before giving him the wink and the gun. He rolled his eyes, but his face suddenly turned bright red as she jumped on to the stage, reached through the mesh with her fingers, and took a hold of his tanktop. She got within three centimeters of his face, and his eye twitched. He had a personal bubble. She was _in _that bubble. Ed didn't appreciate her being in his bubble.

"Kid, you owe me _so _much, like you wouldn't believe. You better be happy I'm generous," she growled at him, a smile plastered on her face. He could tell that she had really not wanted to shoot so high, but there was probably no other way to get Flaubage to stop other than _to _shoot extremely high. Ed rolled his eyes and answered, "Maybe if someone hadn't let me get kidnapped in the first place..." Nirvana glared at him, and the ringleader came up on stage as the warehouse was thrown into a state of chaos over the bidding war. People were clammering to place bids on some of the cheaper slaves. Johnny tapped Nirvana on the shoulder and said, "Hey, we need a speech or somethin'. There's always a speech. Besides, this is your first slave. You sure shot big, girlie girl." Ed stared at Nirvana. The alphysicist vacillated this ultimatum for a moment before smiling and said, "Why not?"

Ed was yanked out of the cage, and he jerked his arm from the slaver holding him. He was led to stand next to Nirvana as she spoke to Johnny.

"So, that little ploy there."

The crowd suddenly died down, realizing this wasn't over.

"That worked pretty well. But why didn't you just keep going until Flaubage squeaked?" There was a ripple of laughter, and Flaubage could almost be audibly heard over it, huffing in a rather disgruntled manner.

"Well, I wanted to end it quick and clean." Nirvana drew a finger over her throat, and the crowd 'oooooh'ed in amusement. Ed didn't pay attention to the rest of the speech, most of it just about stuff that Ed really wasn't interested in.

"So, why _did _you buy Blondie over here?" Johnny asked. Nirvana smirked, and she looked at Ed. He stared with a question mark practically hanging over his head. Nirvana looked him up and down, and he blushed furiously. That was _not_ why she bought him!

"I like eye candy. It's a guilty pleasure," Nirvana said easily. With that, they closed their interview, and they stepped off the stage, Edward shackled carefully while Nirvana was given a remote control for the electrical shock. Nirvana smirked smugly, and out of the corner of her mouth, she muttered, "Don't act like you know me." Ed kept his eyes glued to the floor, and he asked quietly, though he doubt he could be heard over the ruckus, "Then why'd you hop on the stage?" Nirvana only said, "Later."

Ed had thought they were heading towards their group, but they suddenly took a left into another section of the warehouse that was walled off. Nirvana was stopped by a guard, and he asked to see something. She flashed a card at him, probaby given whenever Ed was bought. He allowed her through, his smile gap-toothed as he watched her walk off. Ed felt like he wanted to puke. Inside of the other rooms, there were people signing papers and screams. Ed swallowed audibly, wondering what screaming had to do with signing papers. They were led to another room, this one with a regular looking metal desk (finally, something that Ed was familiar with, as much as he hated desks) and a table with many straps (of which Ed was not familiar with and did not wish to be). There was an official behind the desk with a pen, and he started to coach Nirvana through the signing process, but it was soon apparent that Nirvana pretty much knew what she was doing.

"Ma'am, would you like him tattooed with a code, or would you like him chipped instead?" Nirvana frowned.

"What's the difference? Both are identification." The official nodded good-naturedly and said, "Well, yes they are, but the tattoo will only provide identification and authenticity. The chip will do both while also putting a tracker under the skin, so that he can be found again should he ever wish to..." He made two legs out of his fingers and motioned running. Ed glared at the man. Yeah, like he didn't know what _that_ meant. Geez, talk about an insult to his intelligence. The man, realizing that Ed was trying to bore holes into his skull through glaring, quit the motion and put his hands down like the good little office worker he was.

"I'll take the traditional tat. Chips are unreliable, and they're not easy to see," Nirvana said, examining her fingernails as she leaned against the desk. She looked over at Ed with a grim smile.

"And where would you like it? We usually do it across the arm or the chest..." the man suggested, and Nirvana thought about it. Ed felt a cold sweat run over his body as he realized he was about to be marked and shipped off like cattle on a farm.

"Do I get a say in this?" Ed drawled. The office worker stared at him as if he'd just sprouted wings. Nirvana glared, and Edward figured this wasn't normal slave behavior. Nirvana's acidic answer was, "No. You don't. Give it to him across the arm. It's less messy than the neck or face." Ed gulped. Neck or face...? He was suddenly sat down in the chair by two guards that had remained unseen somewhere. He could feel his body start shaking as he realized they'd be putting a needle in him, _thousands upon thousands of times over_.

"What about that arm? I want the arm fixed," Nirvana said, a small background noise to Ed as he tried to keep from bolting. He failed, and he attempted to run, but the guards held him down, and they began strapping him to the table.

_It's just a needle... a really, really thin piece of metal with a little hole in it, and it goes in your skin. Yeah, not... not painful at all! And you'll... have it go in over and over and _over and over and-

Suddenly, Ed saw out of the corner of his eye a guard come around with a large stamp. He frowned. Was that to outline where they'd be tattooing so they didn't screw up? The guard looked bored as he lined up the stamp to Ed's arm.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but you have to take him as is. That's our policy."

Ed felt a very, very sharp pain, and he let out a loud, "YEOW!" He jerked against the straps before leaning back on the table. Nirvana and the office worker continued their talk without even looking at him. Ed looked at his arm, and he realized that, instead of putting one needle in him ten thousand times, they'd put ten thousand needles in him all at once. That stamp really was a stamp- a permanent one. His arm now had a nice looking number code along with two small emblems on the side in the shape of clovers. There was a short, very small barcode under the number code, and the entire amassment of ink was beginning to turn red around the edges as blood began to pool at the surface of the punctured skin.

"Fine, I'll just go find an AM mechanic," Nirvana said. The guards began to unstrap Ed, their practiced fingers working nimbly. Whenever he was free, she grabbed Ed by the arm and yanked him off the table. The guards slapped cuffs on him again, and they began to leave.

"Where are-"

"Shut up a minute, I have to get some stuff. Just act like the good little mute boy you are and look pretty."

* * *

Georgia flipped a small chip, catching it midair. She looked at Kojak with a hard stare, and she continued to flip the chip and catch it as it reached its apex. She shifted in her seat, completely aware of her surroundings. They were still sitting in their seats in the warehouse. It was considerably quieter as the slavers were at a lunch break, and the other, smaller slaving companies were selling their wares in stalls at the sides of the warehouse. The noises were those of human pain and of haggling voices arguing over the price of a piece of flesh that was on the market, ready to be shipped out with a tattoo on one arm and an owner on the other. She was distinctly aware of where she was and what it had taken to get them out of this mess.

What concerned her was just how they managed to extricate themselves from this particular sticky situation. She had many questions. Kojak, being a familiar, the _only_ familiar, Nirvana possessed was the most plausible choice for answers. Kojak, noticing eyes on his face, turned his own dark, liquid orbs to stare back at Georgia. The others, realizing that there was a definite tension in the air between the two veterans, decided to get up and move. Imal made his way to a slave stall to pretend that he was interested in what they were selling (and perhaps to find anyone he might know from his tribe), while the Xingese emissaries left with Grayson and Richie to look at a drink stall that looked awfully lonely in a corner.

Noticing that they were now alone, Kojak took a nonchalant purveyance of his teammates' dispersion before saying, "You know, Georgia, I know I'm handsome, but I'm not _that _handsome." He chuckled, giving Georgia a curious look. Georgia didn't look quite so pleased. She caught the chip, and she held her hand there for a moment, pausing as she gathered her thoughts. Her stare was intense, and he realized that she was seriously contemplating something. This was no kidding query. Finally, she spoke.

"When did Nirvana end up in the city?" Georgia asked quietly enough. Her voice sounded oddly normal, without an inflection or other key clue as to her thoughts. This in itself put Kojak slightly on guard, but he caught himself. To distrust a colleague out in the field was a mistake. It could get a soldier killed, and it all snowballed from one instant. He quickly let down his guard, and he said, "She was probably thirteen or fourteen. Not sure. I can't remember real well." This seemed to click something inside of Georgia. She leaned forwards, her hands balled into fists together as she put them to her mouth. She muttered something, her eyes narrowing. She gave a furtive glance back to Kojak.

"We spotted Nirvana in the Ruins for the first time when she was fifteen." Kojak nodded with a wary look. He wasn't liking where this was going. Georgia stared at Kojak, and they both knew what was coming next.

"How does a girl amass over 20 million Patron City credits in less than two years at the age of fourteen years old?" Georgia asked. Kojak looked off, the first to break eye contact. He sighed, and he admitted quietly, "I honestly don't know, Georgia. I'd talked to her before, in the Ruins. I was the only one who would get out there and meet her on her own terms. She said she'd been thriving, but she couldn't handle the amount of people packed into the city. She said it made her nervous. After a while, she told me to quit askin' and to go home." There was a slight pause. The noises of hawking salesman trying to entice buyers filled the silence between the two without really taking away any of the heaviness the silence held. It was tense.

"So does that mean we've been using dirty money?" Georgia asked seriously. Dirty money could be traced, and they'd end up in more trouble than they cared to be. Not only would the authorities have a reason to arrest and detain them, they'd also have a line on them as to where they were and what they were doing. It was a security breach that Georgia wasn't willing to let slide. If worst came to worst, they'd have to split up, with Edward and Nirvana in one group and Georgia and the rest in another in order to maintain the integrity of their secrecy. Only one slave was under Nirvana's name, and that was Ed. Alice had been bought under a different account and therefore would be traced to a separate entity named Frederick Hornglass. The real Frederick lived in Oasis, working as a banker and finding loopholes in policies for the military in order to close them up. Technically, their money was clean because it had been amassed in a way that was legal. Nirvana's was a different story. It wasn't so much that it was under Nirvana's name as that they had no idea where it came from.

"We're not using dirty money," Kojak sighed. He looked over at Georgia with a hangdog look before smiling brightly. He leaned back in his chair and stretched, yawning widely. He said, "I trust Nirvana, at least with money. She wouldn't accept dirty money, anyways. Too easy to trace. You know how she likes her privacy and all, you know?" Georgia scoffed.

"Of course I do." In the early days when Georgia had just met Nirvana, she'd been five years old and hell on wheels. Disciplining her had been like trying to chain down a demon using paper links. It was still like this now, though she'd calmed down considerably. Remembering Mustang's method of handling her, she felt her forehead furrow. Even when pushed to her limits, Georgia had never gone so far. If there was anyone who knew about Nirvana's extreme phobia of restraints, it was her.

"Do you have an idea of how she makes her money?" Georgia asked. Before Kojak could answer, however, one of the boys ran over and said, "Hey, we've got to pick up Alice. She's not in bad shape, but she's pretty shaken up. We need to do the paperwork, and then we can get out of here." Kojak looked up and stood, and he glanced down at Georgia. That one expression told her all she needed to know.

_Later. _

They both started walking towards the office rows on the side of the building. It was time to pick up their friend.

* * *

Alice sat on the table with her knees drawn up to her chest, watching everybody warily. She hated being here. She hated being watched. She hated that she had to be chained to a table while Kojak signed those stupid papers that said she was now a stupid slave with a stupid bar code on her arm that hurt like a stupid mother-

"All right, that's it. She's all yours. Would you like her personal affects?" the man behind the counter asked. Kojak nodded. He gave a disarming smile and said in his gravelly, rumbling tones, "Yes, if you would please. I want her comfortable where she's going." The man nodded obsequiously, and Alice could've gagged. She looked at her bar code, stretching the skin and wincing as it sparked in pain and protest. It was a simple black line of numbers with a small bar code underneath, two clovers on either side of it. She looked over to the man who was sending a guard to go and get her stuff. She could've sworn that someone would've thrown it all out, all things considered, but perhaps it was just special treatment due to her skin color and people figuring she came from a rather well-off family.

"What are the clovers on this for?" she asked the man behind the counter, and he looked over with a look of surprise. He gathered his thoughts before answering, "That's the emblem of the company. So that no one can dispute which company you belong to if your master here dies. Until you get your freedom, those will stay on your skin. You have to pay the company extra for the freedom rights to have them taken off." Alice frowned. That meant... if Kojak were to die, she'd end up being returned to this company and sold all over again. She rubbed the skin just underneath the bar code with a little bit of anxiety. Kojak looked back to make sure the man wasn't looking, and he walked over to Al.

He took her hand, rubbing it between both of his. He smiled and said, "I won't let that happen to you, baby, you know that, right?" Al blinked and nodded. Ever since Al's own father had died in an accident down in the Subterra levels, Kojak had served as a sort of male role model. In later years, she'd grown apart from him, but there was still that little part of her that wished that she really did have her Daddy here to hold her hand and tell her everything was all right. She put a smile on her face and stated, "I know. If you didn't, I'd have to get to your stupid 'heaven' and kick your ass for it." Kojak ruffled her hair with a wide grin and said, "That's my girl. Though I'm sorry to burst your bubble- God don't allow no ass-kicking up at His place."

Nirvana seemed to materialize in the doorway, and Alice gave her a hard look. She'd been disenchanted by the alphysicist. On their first meeting, she'd thought that Nirvana was an awesome scientist and jerk with a heart of gold. Now she just knew that she was a jerk with a heart of jerk. The blonde physics specialist said to Kojak roughly, "Hey, we've got to go. I've got mine and all of his stuff. I got lucky, and they didn't throw most of it away. He's still got the arm, too. Lucky, huh?" The man behind the counter glanced back before turning to gathering all of the personal belongings of his client's new purchase from the guard who'd just come back. He turned to Kojak and said, "Here you are. All of her things, clothes, pack and all." Kojak nodded politely and said, "Thank you very much, sir. We'll be glad to have her." Al hopped off the table, staring behind her at the small, little man with the nimble fingers and polite nature. It was strange to see such a person with a good disposition in a hellhole like this.

You could never tell about people. She stared at the back of Nirvana's head as they walked down the hall. No, you really couldn't.

They rejoined with Ed, who was sitting on a bench with a shackle around his wrist that was attached to a pipe next to him.

"We'll get them shock bracelets, and then we can leave. All the paperwork's finished, and so is their-" Kojak interrupted and asked, "We're not buying their freedom first?" The new slaves looked at their respective owners, back and forth, before looking at each other. Nirvana thought for a moment before saying, "No. We're not. Freedom rights aren't only expensive, but they also give a big tip-off to everyone. We've already risked exposure by buying the two of them, especially _him._" She jerked a finger at Edward. He frowned and said, "Hey, wait a minute. It's not like I _wanted _to be captured and have my arm sawed off. Don't act as if this is my fault." His words were vehement, and Nirvana gave him a stiff glare. She hissed back, "Well, perhaps it would've been better that you did get your arm sawed off. Otherwise, you would've been a lot more expensive. Too bad they couldn't do the same with your mouth." Ed jerked against his shackle, ready to hit Nirvana, but he was held back by the pipe, if just barely.

"Nirvana, this isn't fair. We're your team mates. Why in _hell _are you going to keep us slaves?" Al asked, her voice hushed but still urgent. Nirvana swivelled her head towards Al and promptly said in clipped tones, "Okay, for one, I didn't have to buy you. _Either _of you. I could've let the sweaty guy in Row 2T buy you, and then we wouldn't have to spend all of our money on you."

"Nirvana, enough," Kojak muttered in warning. Nirvana didn't bother with listening.

"And you. I could've just let Flaubage have you. Face it, I did you two a favor. Now you're asking for your freedom rights. Well, guess what? It's better you're slaves, because you go more places without being noticed. Besides, you're hardly worth much more than slaves-"

What happened next was shocking. Nirvana was suddenly knocked completely off her feet and smashed into a wall, her head making a sick noise against the metal. Several guards looked in the hallway, but they immediately turned back to their work when Kojak gave them all looks that could probably melt titanium. Kojak worked his fist, feeling the knuckles crack as he stared at his once-protege. She had blood running down the side of her face, and a look of surprise and hurt was spread across her features. Both Ed and Al looked at Kojak with staggered breaths, hardly believe that the old black man had just slammed Nirvana straight into a hard surface. They'd never seen Kojak cause anyone bodily harm, and they realized now that despite his age, Kojak was well able in the kicking ass department.

"I said 'enough'." Kojak's words were stones. Alice even felt sort of sorry for the girl on the floor. Nirvana slowly looked down, her eyes guarded as she wiped the blood from her face. Kojak suddenly said vehemently, "I have had enough of your attitude, young lady. Just because you got dragged on this trip, tortured, yeah _tortured, _by Mustang, and had to spend a good chunk of your finances on at least one of your teammates doesn't mean you have the right to take it out on them. I taught you better than that." Nirvana stood up, her eyes glued to the floor and her jaw tense as a strung piano wire. She undid the shackle around Ed's wrist, and she muttered, "Fine. We leave. But they get their freedom rights later, right before we leave the City."

"And if we die before then?" Kojak asked. Nirvana finally looked at him. She snarked, "That just means we have to keep from dying before the trip is over, don't we."

* * *

Edward realize that he couldn't see the sky anymore. He looked out the window, wondering where it had gone for a minute before realizing that they were underground, a large one-way Cresclear glass layer separating the underground from the ones above. He stared at the dark expanse that gave a strange sheen, as if the night sky were now a massive dome of obsidian. He couldn't even see the glass very well, seeing as there were buildings and walkways packed under the ground, giving a semblance of randomness and chaos, a dadaist's painting that had gone completely awry in that way only life can create. He looked at the bar code on his arm, wondering how exactly this would all work. He was now bound indefinitely to Nirvana and Oasis with no way out. He couldn't escape, or else he'd be tracked back to his current owner. He couldn't go anywhere without being noticed as a slave due to the mark on his arm and the bright, bluish-clear bracelet around his wrist.

"It's weird, isn't it?" Ed looked over his shoulder. He could see Alice sitting on the bed. Imal was asleep on the other side, the lamp turned low so that only part of her face shown while the other part was thrown into shadow.

"Realizing that you're a piece of property," she finished, getting up and sitting next to him near the window. He looked out the window, and he gave a bitter laugh.

"Actually, it isn't. I was always owned by the military, and before that, Al, my brother Al, was practically my owner then. I did everything for him. Of course, that was voluntary enslavement. I could actually do whatever I wanted, when I wanted," he added with a slight smile. Ah, all the times he'd disobeyed Al, and how he had felt chagrined whenever his younger brother berated him for being an idiot and doing dangerous things. And then, right after, Al would take him some place to eat, hug him, tell him that he loved him with all his heart and wonder why Ed had to do all those dangerous things, as well as doing those dangerous things without him to go along for the ride. And then... Ed would have to tell him, that he did those things because of Al, and he didn't want his only little brother to have to deal with all that danger, even though nothing was much danger to Al by that time, given his metal shell.

"You know what's really funny, though?" Ed said quietly. The other Elric looked at him intently, her purple hair tempered with the gold from the lamp by the bedside where Imal was sleeping.

"What?" she asked, in equally hushed tones. The walls were thin here in this tiny inn, and Georgia had banged on the walls more than once to get some of them to shut up so she could sleep.

"This was how my dad started out," Ed stated solemnly. His father... Ed realized that he'd never get to talk to his father again. No doubt, Hohenheim had been trapped in the circle with everyone else in Amestris and had perished alongside them, swallowed into one, massive Philosopher's Stone. The thought made Edward both angry and amazingly sorrowful. He had never been fond of his father, not for leaving his mother, especially when she had been on her death bed. He had not forgiven him for never showing up at her funeral. Yet now, he felt as if he had left something unfinished that was linked to his father. There was a part of him that yearned to reconnect now that all was lost and gone, and that all possibility of doing so was null and void.

"Your dad? Hohenheim, right? My too-many-greats-grandpa?" Alice asked curiously. Her eyes shone bright, bright gray-green, and Ed felt nostalgia, staring into those eyes. He chuckled, and he said, "Yeah. Too-many-greats-Gramps. He was a slave in Xerxes when he met the first Homunculi. He told me he was my age, and he'd been the first one to really help develop alchemy with the help of his little 'friend in the flask.' It's sort of strange before now I'm the only true alchemist left, and I'm a slave, too." He laughed to himself.

"I'd always hated my dad. Now I'm becoming him. How weird is that?" Alice gave him a smile.

"I don't think it's such a bad thing. He stuck it out in the end, didn't he? At least you had him." The girl looked off, and Edward realized that he'd touched a subject that was touchy. His curiousity got the better of him, though.

"What happened to your father?" he asked. Al drew her knees up to her chest, her usual position whenever she felt alone, threatened, or insecure. She said, "He was an alchemist, but he wasn't as good as you. He helped with the infrastructure of Oasis, making sure it could stand up to all the weight of the rock on top of it. He... he didn't come back one day. Monoxide poisoning. He'd been stupid, and he decided to leave the little thingie that told him that there were dangerous gases in the area." Al stared out the window.

"I was twelve years old. My mother waited for him every day at the door, hoping he'd come home. They found him a month later in a monoxide rich area, and they said even if they'd gotten to him an hour into his disappearance, he would've been dead," she stated matter-of-factly. Ed found himself feeling a slight pain over her father. He'd lost his mother so young, and he knew what it was like to lose one parent, as well as consider the other as good as dead. Now, Al had found herself in the same situation.

"And now my mom's dying. I have plenty of cousins who can take care of me, but..." Alice trailed off. Ed nodded. It wasn't the same.

"And there's me," he added. Al looked at him, and she gave a small smile.

"Yeah. And there's you."


	14. Awry

A W R Y

"So, how's it going?" Grayson's voice was too chipper for three in the morning, and Nirvana stared at him with a twitching eye, Georgia doing much the same as they shot daggers at the historian. His expression fell as he realized that, though he may be plenty happy waking up early, others may not share his enthusiasm. He held up his hands and said, "All right, all right, I'm retreating. Here's my white flag, don't shoot." As he left, the two women looked over the electronic screens set in the table. Actually, the screen _was _the table, though it could be cut down to size should anyone ever wish for something a little less spacious.

They were currently holed up in Nirvana's warehouse. They'd moved locations after a bit of an incident occurred between Ed and a female innkeeper who liked to be a little too familiar with her customers. Ed had forgotten himself, and he'd used alchemy to create a wall... which was a big no-no in Patron City, especially for a slave. Nirvana had forgotten to tell him that little tidbit. They'd had to leave immediately while under cover of darkness to a separate part of the undergound, though this part was dissonantly prosperous in comparison to the hovels in other places Undergorund. In Nirvana's area, smart-looking houses rose with clean interiors... while, just outside their doors, beggars pleaded and grabbed at passersby for anything and everything. They'd been at the warehouse nearly a month, hardly any of them risking the outside world except to go for food and other such necessities. It wasn't hard to stay inside the warehouse, seeing as it was the size of a football field. It was fully furnished with many rooms, most of which were specialized for certain purposes. Nirvana certainly knew how to live.

However, this only made Georgia that much more suspicious of where her income happened to originate. It was just illogical that someone so young could have recieved so much money without somehow breaking the system one way or another. Still, her thoughts were in other places this morning. They were reviewing their inventory of supplies. They had a good head of things that they needed back at base, but the problem of shipping all of this was currently being worked out. Oasis had decided that it would be best if they airlifted the materials to the compound up north in the Briggs range where the Briggs Fort had once stood. From there, they'd use the tunnels that ran from the Oasis base to the one in Briggs, though it would take quite a bit longer.

"How much longer do you think we should stay?" Georgia asked. She looked up at Nirvana, her mouth set in a hard line on having to ask a younger compatriot about anything. She didn't particularly like having to rely on someone so fickle and unstable, but they didn't have much of a choice unless they could find another guide they could trust. However, the minute that they left the city limits, Georgia was reassuming control. The two headstrong personalities looked at each other, their eyes clashing with each other as they tried to gauge the other's reaction and/or thoughts. Nirvana said, "I say we stay another two weeks. Ed and Al have been going out into the city and gathering information on the current politics of the area, so that'll definitely be a factor. This place goes through 'phases' of street activity. Things've been quiet lately, too quiet for my liking. That means there's a big crime head around, and things are about to get really nasty. We may end up having to leave earlier, and if that happens we'll have to move to another section of the Underground."

Georgia nodded, rubbing her chin. She sighed, leaning back into her chair. She looked up at Nirvana whom was still looking over the inventory. Georgia stood up, and she said, "There will be no problems? And you'll make sure to buy the freedom rights for both Ed and Al?" Nirvana didn't look up.

"Yes to the first, no to the second. We can actually remove the tattoos in Oasis. I'll have to check for tracker ink, though, because if they leave with tracker ink in their skin, things could get really messy really fast," Nirvana stated. Georgia frowned as she looked back, and she asked, "What sort of messy?" Nirvana continued to fiddle with the list.

"The type of messy where you're electrocuted by nano-tech discharges and recaptured to be either sold back to your owner or taken back to the company. That sort of messy," Nirvana answered tersely. Georgia scoffed. Of course, they would have more complications.

"And the chances of them having tracker ink? What happens if we have to leave early?" Georgia asked. She liked having a contingency plan. It never hurt to have one.

"Chance is pretty high. The Cloverleaf Company happens to be high end, and they can afford tracker ink. They like to offer a chip for the sole reason that it's more expensive for the buyer and they don't need it anyways. Most people don't realize that their slave was just trackerjacked by the Cloverleaf Company, and that they no longer are the only ones who know about their slaves' whereabouts. Tracker ink still goes back to the Cloverleaf Company, but it's easier to get rid of without drawing attention from the company," Nirvana explained. "If we have to leave early, we'll leave Ed and Al here in a secure location. Another group can come in and remove them, and I'll help with that."Georgia thought this was just a little too easy an answer, but she was tired, and she wanted a little sleep before they left for the next deal of the day.

Finally, Georgia left, wandering from the main anteroom towards the stairs that led to the bedrooms on the second floor. She took one last look at Nirvana before ascending, getting ready for another day's worth of running around. They would have a lot to do today. Nirvana watched her from beneath her eyelashes, waiting for the soldier to reach the hallway out of sight of the anteroom before pulling up a math. She stared at it for a few moments, looking at where they would be headed. Nirvana was not one to be caught offguard, and she liked to come prepared for anything.

In this case, she wanted to be prepared for the upper level of the city. They were going for a special brand of chip, one that only Aboveground sellers would have. The Underground didn't have anyone technical enough to give them a reliable pack of motherboard chips, and they didn't want to risk it. The way they sold things up there was different, however, and their crime system was also a horse of a different color. Down here, they had crime lords of a sort, each one holding a piece of territory. Mostly, there were petty fights, the occasional crime war, but it stayed relatively quiet as the crime lords happened to be just as decrepit or moreso than the people that they catered to. Though they lived luxuriously by the standards of the Underground, they were by no means the top echelon of society.

However, the Aboveground populace happened to work a little different in the crime arena. Their crime was much more organized, much better controlled, and much, much more ruthless. Word got around fast with them, so crossing any of the crime rings on the Aboveground would be like triggering a domino effect. They weren't trigger happy, luckily, but they'd be much harder to beat out than your usual streetshop thug trying to swindle you of your credit chip. It would be okay if the credit chip happened to be in your purse or in your car. It wasn't quite so enjoyable to be mugged if your chip happened to be implanted on the inside of your hand. Nirvana was smart enough to leave a small diode of triangular light in her palm to fool people, but her actual credit chip was somewhere a lot safer. They'd have to look pretty hard to find it, and chances were they'd never get the time to do that, crime syndicate goonies or no.

It didn't help that some people Aboveground were... less than happy with her.

Nirvana sat up straight, and she typed something into the table's laser-printed keyboard. The middle of the table suddenly lowered, a secret compartment revealed. Nirvana stood next to the table, waiting for the next surface to lay flush with the table. This new piece of table top contained weapons, mostly firearms though there were traditional weapons present as well. Nirvana felt it handy to keep them around. This table happened to double as a mini-armory and a gun box all at once. She picked up two guns, both of them pistols. They were small and stocky, but she didn't like how they weighed in her hands as she swung them around fast. They were _too _heavy for something like this. She put them down, instead going with a much lighter, much faster-to-draw photon gun. This would be better... but it wasn't good for a team effort like this. It would be too easy for someone to catch friendly fire from something that shot what were basically invisible bullets. She put that one down. She was about to pick something else up -

"What's that?" A voice from above startled Nirvana into nearly dropping the photon firearm on the table top. Edward descended the stairs, his hair particularly messy though his eyes were sharp and alert, a rather comical contrast. He was wearing a tanktop and a pair of cheap pajama bottoms, but he managed to pull it off well without looking ridiculous. Especially considering they were duckie pajamas. Nirvana glanced at the table, and she leaned down on it with her elbows.

"What? A girl can't fiddle with her toys?" she asked sarcastically, and Ed's eyes turned heavenward. He said, "Fine, be secretive." He continued to come down the stairs, and Nirvana felt a spike of panic. He wasn't leaving. Edward sat down at the table, eyeing the weaponry, and he whistled low as he stared at all of it. He sighed and asked, "Where in hell did you get all of this stuff?" Nirvana raised an eyebrow, and she asked in a slow drawl, "You really think I'm going to tell you." He looked up, and she could see blatant curiosity and bulldog determination. Giving in, she sighed, "I got it here and there, gun shows, that type of thing. I get discounts from certain people becuase I do favors for them."

"Like what sort of favors," Ed asked in an idle tone as he picked up a long rifle with a sophisticated sight. She felt her hands twitch in reaction to him picking up the sniper rifle, and she said, "The type that's hard to pay back." He looked at her with a question in his eyes as he held the gun, instinctively placing his hands on the two grips. She momentarily noted that despite his intuitiveness with the rifle, he still looked awkward and uncomfortable with it. That could mean one of two things. Either he was unfamiliar with rifles of this type, which wouldn't be surprising as that model had only come out within the last ten years, or...

"You've never fired a gun, have you?" she said, more statement than question. Ed gave a small huff, putting the gun down on its place at the table. He said, "No, I never have. I've got alchemy. I don't need them too much. Military never issued me a gun." Nirvana shook her head.

"Pity. I bet you'd be a good shot," she said, but she suddenly realized that she was puzzled as to why she had said that. Her panic from before was gone, and now she was a little more at ease with Ed, as the two had calmed down towards each other significantly over the last month. She now realized that Ed wasn't going to pull up any uncomfortable questions, such as _why did she have an entire arsenal on her dining table. _Perhaps it was an every day thing for Ed to see dozens of firearms in one sitting.

"Say, why is this out anyways?"

The panic returned. She hated being found out. She wasn't fond of being sneaky. Still, sometimes a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

It wasn't that Nirvana was taking advantage of her teammates. She could be a real douche sometimes, but she wasn't going to walk into danger without telling everybody else that they'd better keep their eyes peeled and their circuitry clean. It was more like ... Nirvana was taking a little extra protection with her alongside the military weapons she'd been issued, which usually included a pistol and a knife, two weapons that Nirvana thought were awfully pitiful at a gun fight where it was helpful to have something that could shoot a lot of magazines without having to reload. Edward walked around the table, inspecting the middle five foot by four foot slab covered in war machines.

"What the hell...?" Ed asked, holding up a glass tube with metal caps. It appeared completely empty. As he was about to open it, Nirvana suddenly shouted, "STOP!" Ed had his teeth clamped over the end of the tube, looking absolutely bewildered. Nirvana let out a slow breath as she recomposed herself, and she said, "The things in that tube are so small, you can't see them. And if you open that tube, you will get a mouthful of something very, _very _nasty. They're nanites. I haven't programmed them yet, so their default is to swarm and smother anybody who opens the container." Ed took his teeth off the metal cap, and he frowned as he put the tube down.

"Nanites?" he asked. Nirvana nodded, explaining further, "Robots. Extremely _tiny _robots. They do a lot, but they're also a pain to program. You're only allowed so much space, so that means you have to be very concise on what you want in as little amount of words as possible." She took the tube, and she put them into a special clamp device set in the table.

"So why are you up at this godawful hour?" Nirvana asked without looking up. Ed winced, and he looked off with a miffed look.

"Arm. Stupid thing," he muttered, unconsciously moving so that only his left side was showing, hiding his right arm. Nirvana should've figured. That arm had been giving him trouble since the day he'd had it fixed. Richie had managed to somehow get his hand _run over by _by a certain drink cart at the slave auction, and so he hadn't been able to work on Ed's arm immediately. Because his model was so old, they'd had to go to a cheap chop shop for parts that would work with Ed's arm until Richie could actually use his right hand. The nerves didn't connect quite right with this model throughout the entire arm, so they'd had definite problems. However, when asked if Ed would like to have the entire automail arm removed and replaced with a much newer model, he was absolutely vehement on keeping it.

"No way in hell am I getting rid of this," he'd growled out, holding the other piece that originally went to his shoulder. The original arm itself was still usable, but the chop shop they'd gone to hadn't been able to figure out how to reconnect it because it was so old. Richie only knew becuase he'd pulled up several schematics from the Oasis database out of the archives from circa 1900. Nirvana had thought it was a stupid idea to leave him that outdate piece of junk for an arm, but that was his choice, and besides, a new arm would've been particularly expensive. She would know.

"I probably should've guessed that," she muttered. She stood up, and she took a small handgun, this one made of a shock-proof plastic with a metal barrel. It looked more like a piece of art than a weapon. The plastic was clear, leaving the dark gunmetal to bleed its color through it. She loaded a shock-shell, the standard non-lethal round of electrical pain. She pretended to aim down the length of the antechamber, over the couch, and straight to the television hanging on the opposite wall from the door. She closed one eye, and, after some deliberation, put it down and unloaded the cartridge.

Ed watched her with some trepidation as she picked up weapon after weapon, testing them in her hands, and he finally asked, "What's with all the firepower?" Nirvana stopped, her hand hovering over a pack of _shuriken _and _kunai_. She looked up at Ed, not hardly moving. She said, "Where we're going, we'll need it. Besides, I have people up there who're not exactly buddy-buddy with me, natch." Ed frowned, and he asked, "Natch?"

Nirvana nodded and explained, "Naturally." She pulled up the bag of ninja weapons, and she decided that they wouldn't do her much good where she was going. Ed sat down in a chair, crossing his arms, albeit with a little difficulty as his good arm went the right direction and his other arm... well, didn't. His gold eyes flickered across the table, and his brow furrowed quite a bit as he realized that all of these weapons were probably custom made to Nirvana's tastes, considering their style and weight. He knew that they were probably handy for any military girl, but what would she be doing with an armory?

"You guys ready to go?" The voice came from above, and Ed immediately turned to the sound of Kojak's usual rumbling baritone. The teen gave an imperceptible nod, and he headed to the kitchen for breakfast. Nirvana put down the weapon in her hand, and she stood up straight as Kojak descended the stairs.

"A girl can't have her alone time?" Nirvana sighed, crossing her arms and leaning on one leg. Kojak smiled and chuckled, his shoulders shaking slightly. He stood across from her, an entire head taller and over three decades older. He looked down at the guns, swords, knives, and other assorted instruments of death, and he asked, "I see you've been busy." Nirvana shrugged noncomittally. Kojak's eyes took in the small armory, and he added, "I guess you must've made your fair share of enemies." He traced his finger over the filigree of a knife, something that was just as decorative as it was deadly.

"You don't like where we're going, do you?" he asked. Faster than could be seen, the knife was pointed to Nirvana, but she already had a gun pointed past it, the blade pressed against the short barrel of what could basically be described as a hand cannon. Nirvana's eyes were completely closed off, her expression set in one of blatant disinterest or apathy. Kojak smiled grimly, and he said, "I remember a time when you'd let me throw knives at you and you wouldn't even blink. Now I point a knife at you, and you're fixin' to blow my head off. And you _still _don't blink." Nirvana answered the quip easily.

"Times have changed. I went with it. You don't survive out here by being unprepared or stupid," Nirvana stated. Kojak withdrew the knife, and Nirvana weighed the gun in her hand, the same plastic-and-gunmetal firearm she'd held while talking to Edward. She put it in the holster at her side. It didn't look like she was going to get any sleep tonight, so no use taking off any of her clothes. Kojak seemed to pour his frame into the chair as he sat down, staring at Nirvana. The young blonde looked twitchy, not her usual confident and cocky self.

"What's shortin' your circuits, 'Vana? You're pretty hop-happy this morning," Kojak said. Nirvana didn't look at him. She sighed, and she muttered, "I don't like where we're going. It's too - "

"Organized?" Nirvana glanced at Kojak. The black man had the perfect poker face, a smile. The alphysicist sniffed, and she said, "Just barely. Still, sometimes they get trigger happy. Especially around now." Kojak blinked, and he asked, "Why?"

Nirvana gave a sarcastic bark of a laugh. "The stuff I hear from Ed and Al? All smoke comes for a burning motherboard." Kojak rolled his eyes.

"I thought it was 'all smoke comes from a fire'?"

"Not around here, it's not. You could kill a few horses with all the smoke coming from a single fried motherboard around here. Mercury content and all that." Kojak laughed, and he said, "All right, all right, I'll give you that. So, tell me, what's the smoke and what's the fire?"

Nirvana frowned and she said, "Those little crime bosses around here are stupid enough to take a dip into their own malware and drugs that they destroy themselves. They're supplied by somebody - they're usually only the middleman. They get a little greedy, though, and they want what the next guy's got, who comes from a different crime ring. When crime bosses down here start to squabble, they burn each other's stock, they kill each other's members, and sometimes they'll even kill each other's customers. It makes the guys up top who run the entire thing a little bit nervous. They're not making any money. 'Course, that's fine with the homunculi. The more people that die in drug, malware, and black market wars, the more it feeds the circles in their district."

"Hercmphs?" Ed was at the door of the kitchen, his mouth stuffed full of bread while he held several synthetic nut bars in his hands. Nirvana realized that he'd heard the entire conversation, and she sighed. That was just perfect... She'd rather people not know about the crime ring problems. She wasn't protecting the Underground's 'reputation', more than she was just trying to keep Georgia from lifting the freedom that they all had at the moment while she was in the dark.

"Yes, Ed. Circles. There are probably ten, maybe twelve, alchemical cities around the city. As the city lowers itself in the ground and rises above it, the alchemists around here have to create more and more circles without the public knowing. Anybody who dies around here gets their souls sucked into the circles, and they're periodically drained to make energy for the homunculi who keep everybody in line." Ed's mouth nearly hung open, but he didn't want to lose all of that hard-found bread. He swallowed it all in one big gulp, and he said, "You're telling me... we're standing on top of a massive transmutation circle?" Nirvana leaned back in her chair and nodded.

"That pretty much sums it up," she stated. Ed sat down, putting all of his breakfast goodies on the table. He stared at it, digesting the information. Nirvana watched the time-confused alchemist, and she muttered under her breath to Kojak, "I think I broke him. Do something." Kojak stood up, and he said, "Ed, you alright?" The alchemist looked up, and he said, "Why has no one tried to destroy the circles? Why are we letting them - "

"Exist? At the moment, we can't take on the homunculi by ourselves. It's more for our benefit than theirs," Nirvana explained. Ed frowned, and he asked, "What's stopping us?"

"Well, Ed, the circles are so big, we can't hardly even find the edges of them. They're hidden in the city, and they're maintained by the alchemists, but no one knows who they are. The city's mainframe is so huge and so well protected, it's very hard to find out who to follow and where to go. We just live with it as a fact of life - none of us live here, after all, so it's not any of our concern, though we do have to be extra careful nowadays considering where we happen to be," Kojak said, and Edward slumped, his brain going a hundred miles per hour. They had _transmutation circles sucking souls _out of this place. And they were leaving it be because it didn't pertain to them...

"Hey, guys, we'll be leaving soon. I think it'll probably take us about three hours to get to the Aboveground levels and to the upper level shops without using any type of public transport, so we need to get going," Georgia said from the top of the stairs, and behind her they could hear the sounds of a very disgruntled Alice being dragged out of bed by her brother. Grayson rushed down the hall to the stairs as a shoe flew through the air and nearly broke the skylight above the staircase. Nirvana's eye twitched.

"Hey! Kiddos up there, you break, you buy!" she shouted. Georgia leaned on the banister, and she asked, "You guys ready?" She eyed the rather large assortment of dangerous weapons, and she narrowed her eyes at Nirvana.

"And is there something you want to tell us?" she asked. Nirvana scoffed, and she said, "Fine, if you want a toy, come take your pick. Just be snappy about it."

* * *

The room was white and clear, scarily so. Everything had this strange cleanness about it, which made the mismatched quality of their group stand out. The entire place was sterile as a heated test tube, and Ed didn't like it one bit.

He was wearing his slave outfit again, a long-sleeved shirt with a tall collar that reminded him of a Xingese servant, a white tanktop under that, and cotton pants (at least, the closest thing to cotton pants he'd gotten to around here). He looked like a servant, and it fit the description, but he hated that he had to stay completely silent in every single meeting they had. He'd roll his eyes, he'd cough or snort derisively at a seller, but he couldn't talk. That was an awfully hard task for Ed, and for those who knew Ed well, watching his face contort into a series of disgusted or bored expressions was quite amusing.

"You would give us only thirteen hundred for fifty of these?" the man behind the massive desk asked. He held up a chip smaller than a stamp. Georgia crossed her legs, and she stated, "Yes, that is exactly what we're proposing." The man behind the desk had his hair slicked back, the dome of hair shiny and almost metallic in the blatant lights of the room. It was dark outside the windows - they'd been blacked out especially so that no one would see these black market buyers coming in and going out. Though, honestly, it was always hard to tell whether a group was one of the legitimate type or otherwise.

"Hmmm, I don't know. It seems a little bit low for such good quality microchips. After all, we had to mine practically fifty megatons of rock for only fifty milligram of gorvium," the man said, pursing his lips as he stared at the microchip between his fingers. Nirvana's eyelid twitched, something she was doing a lot more often, and she stated, "Yeah, but you don't pay your workers, now do you?" The man seemed to freeze, and he stared at Nirvana.

"You're awfully mouthy for a buyer. You'd better watch your tongue, Agora," he said, and Ed cached away one more name. Nirvana must've been a master of disguise or something because so far he'd tallied up to seven names: Reno, Gabby, Cora, Clancy, Ingrid, Tessa, and Zeph. Now, there was this new one. Ed had noticed that Nirvana made slight changes to her appearance for every single one of the meetings, sometimes cutting her hair a different length, putting on some sort of lens to change the colors of her eyes, putting on shoes that made her taller, or adding other infinitesimal changes to herself that somehow managed to completely change how she looked. This just added more suspicion around Nirvana and her methods of work. Why would she need a new name and disguise for every single dealer on the black market...?

"Sheesh, if you didn't have me, you would've never ended up with this group," Nirvana sighed nonchalantly, stretching out in her white, satin chair. The sound of vertebrae popping knocked around the room as Ed flickered his eyes to Al. She was dressed in much the same manner as Edward, and she, too, was not ever to speak during these meetings. They were slaves - they had to act as such. According to Kojak, it was a cover that allowed them to go places and hear things that they otherwise would not have been allowed. Still, it didn't mean that Ed was no less angry that he'd been downgraded. Alice gave Ed a furtive look, glancing over her shoulder briefly before staring out the window into the black of the screen. Ed frowned, and he looked out of the corner of his eye.

There were three guards, as per usual to any of these meetings. This was their first for the day Aboveground, though, and Ed could tell that Nirvana was much tenser her than she was in any of the Underground meetings. Kojak had stiffened up as well, and probably the most nervous of them all was Grayson, who looked as if he was about either throw up, ask to be excused, or bolt out of the room. Apparently his time in Patron City before this had done a toll on him, especially in the Aboveground complexes.

"Can we leave now?" the librarian asked Zhang, who was standing next to him. Zhang gave him a look that basically said 'what-the-hell-do-you-think?' Gray took in a shuddering breath, and he focused on the tense deal being made, making an effort to keep his hand off of his extra gun. To show any sign of fear or intent to confront the dealer was as bad as removing a bazooka from a backpack and start firing.

"I say you pay forty five hundred. That seems a bit fairer, don't ya think?" the dealer asked, and Georgia's stare was bulldog determined. She ground out in a slow drawl, "I said thirteen hundred. I meant thirteen hundred." The dealer sighed, and he said, "Well, I guess I can't persuade you, then." He stood up, and he walked over to one wall. He pulled up a window on the wall, revealing it was actually a Cresclear glass wall that was opaqued. He tapped several numbers out on the window from the keyboard at the bottom, and a safe suddenly opened out of the wall. The dealer fiddled with something inside of the safe, and Ed suddenly felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

Almost simultaneously, Ed and Imal, who'd been silently standing behind the group, ducked, pulling down as many of their teammembers to the ground with them. The dealer whipped out a gun, and he shot into the chairs where Nirvana and Georgia had been sitting hardly minutes ago. Guards blocked the doors immediately, lifting their own weapons, and the Oasis group realized that they'd either walked into a trap or they'd just made the dealer very, _very _upset.

"So this is your other form of persuasion?" Nirvana asked panting from the floor as she raised her own weapon, the plastic and gunmetal firearm blending in nicely with the room. The dealer shrugged, and he said, "Well, it's not exactly persuasion so much as capture, baby cakes. How stupid do you take me for?" Nirvana muttered under her breath, "You don't want to know..." Ed could've laughed, but he was too busy kneeling on the ground next to Guun Mei, who'd been shot in the left pectoral. He was alive, but his breathing was rasping.

"Oasis... A place in the desert, a haven. I wonder how much you guys cost in regards to the Homunculi? After all, you guys probably don't know a whole lot, but you _do _know where it is. Hmm, probably a pretty penny, definitely. Lift me up in regards to them, give me a little more to brag about. Maybe even get Self's favor," the dealer said, lifting the screens from the windows with the push of a button. The room was flooded with light, and the city sprawled out in front of them.

"Besides, I've been hearing that those stupid mentards we call dealers in the Underground are getting stirred up. I could use a boost or two from Self-Destruction," the dealer said, and Nirvana glared at him. She was afraid this was the type of thing that would happen.

"We're not Oasis, retard. We're from Sysmans," Nirvana said, and she recieved a kick in the face for her troubles. Ed's eyes widened as he watched Nirvana fly backwards and crash into the ground. The dealer chuckled, and he walked past the Oasis members who were crouched on the ground. Kojak attempted to squeeze off a shot, but blood suddenly spurted from his hand as a bullet carved a new niche into the back of it. He dropped his gun and let out a low moan of pain. The dealer looked behind him at the injured black man, and he said, "Good job, Mark. I don't want any of them dead, just a little roughed up. Go ahead and take a few of them, see if there's room for 'em somewhere. Leave the slaves, though. I don't mind havin' them here."

The guards came in, taking Kojak, Georgia, Grayson, Imal, and Guun. Zhang gave Guun a worried look, but the wounded emissary didn't cast him a glance. Zhang looked up at the dealer, and the guards left the room quietly with the others in tow. The dealer signaled for more of the guards to come in and stand over the others.

"So," the dealer said, sitting back behind his desk. "It's been a while, hasn't it? Agora? Not really your name, I know, but Bennie never was the brightest outta the bunch. I'm not surprised that he didn't bother to give me much of a record on you. Then again, he doesn't know you like I do." Nirvana was hauled to her face, her mouth bleeding bright red. A tooth dangled over her lip, knocked out from her bottom set. The dealer motioned for them to bring her forwards.

"Set her on the desk. Go ahead, I don't mind getting blood on this crap, it's not mine anyways. Now, let's see what's different about you now, hmmmm... You cut your hair, your eyes are now blue instead of green, you've got a sore lip - oh, yeah, that was from me. Heh, woops."

Ed had no idea what this guy was getting at, only that he had a beef with Nirvana. Somehow, some way, she'd made him angry in the past, and now they were all paying for it. No wonder she'd been looking over her own personal armory for anything useful. Why hadn't she just shot him when she had the chance...? Why did she hesitate? He wondered what they were going to do now. Alice looked like she'd fall apart any minute now that Imal was gone, but she was fiercely trying to keep her composure. Zhang had a steely look on his face, and he was obviously wondering why he'd been left behind.

"Well, baby cakes, you get it yet? Huh? You startin' to understand why ole Don's got a bug in his registry? I didn't think you'd get it yet. You're none too smart, after all, walkin' into a place like this with only your little handgun and a snarky mouth that needed a good kickin'. I don't look familiar, do I?" Nirvana groaned, shaking her head.

"The... hell... wrong with..." She couldn't even speak, her mouth hurt so much. She groaned again, and Ed asked, "What are you doing?" The dealer, Don, looked up, and he looked mildly surprised before smiling.

"Aaaah, so he speaks. Good, I thought you were one of those mute eunuchs or something. Now _they _are creepy, lemme tell ya that. I like my slaves to be able to scream some," Don said, and Ed felt like shuddering. He stared straight at the man, noting that something strange was going on. Suddenly, a memory assailed him of a conversation he'd had with Nirvana one morning about the dealings, how they worked.

_"So we're meeting with the head of the street mob, or gang, or whatever it is?" Ed asked, and Nirvana laughed. _

_"Um, no. That's not how it works. We never meet with the head of the gang. They've got more important stuff to do. Instead, we meet with a dealer, who takes care of day to day stuff, not the big decisions. The small fries, really."_

Ed realized that this wasn't small fry behavior. That sort of thing didn't change from century to century. This guy was acting like the big fish. Unless...

"You're the boss, aren't you?" Ed asked, and Don chuckled.

"You've got a good sense for flesh, Gory," Don said, and Nirvana turned her head towards Ed, her ruined mouth turning his stomach. He took a deep breath, and he said, "Care to explain?" Don shrugged, and he looked down at Nirvana, who was lying on his desk. Two guards stood at the head and foot of the desk, making sure she couldn't go anywhere.

"What do you think, Gory? You think I should tell him? I mean, he is a slave after all," Don said mockingly to Nirvana, and she tried to speak.

"Huh? What was that? I'm sorry, didn't catch that," he said, laughing. Suddenly, a great gob of spit and blood smacked him in the eye, and he let out a loud yelp. Nirvana smiled, a macabre grin of blood, gums, teeth, and lips. Don let out a sigh, and he wiped off his face using a handkerchief.

"Why I oughtta... If I hadn't wanted to have fun with you first, I would've just killed you, but no, it wouldn't make any sense to you cuz you wouldn't get what you were dyin' for. Takes all the fun out of it."

"Then... tell me... what am... I dying...for?" Nirvana said, laughing. Of course, she had to have the last laugh. Don smirked at her, and he said, "Well, that sorta happens when you try to kill a guy, huh?"

Ed let that sink in a moment. Another moment passed by, and it suddenly started to make sense.

"Too bad you did a shoddy job of it. Tip for killers, kid - make sure the guy's dead before you leave."

All of it was coming together. The disguises, the weaponry, her house, her money... Ed felt like an idiot. This was insane. Why hadn't he thought of it before?

Nirvana was a hitman.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for being so patient with me these last few days. I've been pretty crazy with the writing, and all three of my stories are up and running as of right now. I took a break for a while because of ACTs and its ilk, so I shall be updating much more often than usual.

I'd like to thank Tailsmoon and PeachTeaKT for their input on the story. Reviews make this world go round, after all!  
Speaking of reviews, I am also intending to do a sort of 'characters answer questions' omake at the end of every chapter. However, those questions will be coming from you, the readers. All you have to do is scrape up a question you want, put it in a review, and wait for the reply in the next chapter! Note: There will probably only be one question per chapter unless the question can be answered fairly shortly without much explanation. You may also ask me, the author, any questions in your reviews, and I will answer as best I can.

Again, thank you for your patience, and I hope you enjoy the story!


	15. Facade

**F A C A D E  
**

The room was at a standstill as the two, Don and Nirvana, stared at each other. There was such tension, it was almost as if the air would congeal and choke them all in that sterile, dead room. Ed's breathing was harsh as he realized just how bad their situation happened to be. He narrowed his eyes as Nirvana began to laugh, flecks of blood spewing into the air and landing on her face and lips. Don seemed less than pleased as he jerked back a hand in order to punch her -

There was a flurry of movement from Nirvana, and Ed ducked as there was the sound of coughing guns, silenced shots bouncing around the room. Ed looked back up to see Nirvana holding Don in front of her as a shield, and he initiated action. He grabbed Al, dragging her behind the desk and then knocking it over in order to form some sort of protection. Appliances, desk items, and other assorted office supplies flew off, and Al said,"Wait! I need to hack through the alarm system before they go and set it off! They'll bring more of those guards up here, and then we'll have a good time chewing through them to get out the door." Ed grinned malevolently and asked, "Who said anything about going out _that _door?" Al's eyes widened, and she shook her head.

"Ed... no, no, no, you can't do alchemy! He'll know!" There was a sudden explosion of sparks as a bullet ricocheted off the metal leg of a chair. More struggling could be heard from Nirvana and Don, tumbling around. Nirvana's gun suddenly was slung low across the ground towards Ed and Al, and they looked at each other. Al's eyes cut to Nirvana, who'd already been shot with three bullets, though it seemed that she'd only been grazed, while Ed's eyes were more concerned with the firearm in front of him. He blew a sigh out through his nose.

"Now or never," he muttered under his breath. There was dead silence, save the sound of grunting and cursing from Don and Nirvana, as the shots ceased. They couldn't shoot at Nirvana without hitting Don as well. Ed took the chance to grab the gun, the flash of his metal arm throwing the guards into an automatic volley of fire. Bullets bounced and shredded through the marble floor. Ed turned to Al, whom was still preoccupied with watching Nirvana and Don, and asked, "Who's 'he'? What are you talking about?" Al turned back, almost surprised, and she quickly regained composure. Her face was stern as she said, "The head homunculus of this region. He'll figure out you're here because his circle can tell him when alchemy is being performed, and alchemy is heavily regulated. We'll have the homunculi on our heads faster than you can say 'shoot the moron who did it.'" As if on cue, a bullet bit straight through the desk, shearing through part of Al's cheek. She let out a stifled scream as she slapped her hands over the suddenly gushing wound. Ed fought to stay composed as he realized that they were going to have to make a move and soon. He ripped off the cuff of his shirt, and he handed it to Alice in a wad.

"How do you know this?" Ed asked. He himself had just learned about the circles, and Al herself had never been above the ground. Al looked guilty as she stated, "I, uh, tend to like to go to illegal sites. I always cover my tracks, and it's not like the information isn't useful!" Ed popped up over the desk abruptly, shooting randomly at the guards.

He ducked again, but not before receiving a biting wound to the shoulder. The guards were good shots, and Ed probably hadn't hit a single one. He'd never trained with a gun! He didn't know how to use the darn thing! Still, with alchemy suddenly out of the picture... Ed suddenly felt a strange sizzling sensation in his shoulder, and Alice murmured, "Aw, hell no. They put cellhacker poison on the bullets." She removed the wad of cloth from her face, and Ed's eye twitched as he watched the muscles around the wound convulse and writhe. His shoulder was beginning to do the same.

"Um, that doesn't sound good." Another volley of shots rang out as Nirvana threw Don down on the ground. Ed flinched slightly at the sound of gunfire, and he sighed. Looks like there was no choice. He didn't want to have to go out in a fire fight, but they did think he was just a slave with really bad aim. Hopefully that meant they wouldn't nail him as a priority, and he could catch them by surprise.

"You're going to go out there, aren't you?" Alice asked, more statement than question. Ed's jaw tensed, ready to defend his decision, and she said, "I'll cover for you. I'm better with guns than you are, besides. I'll try for the wall panel's controls for the alarm system and stir up some sludge in the tank with the surveillance. There's nothing we can do about the cellhacker poison until it wears off. If you start twitching really bad, though, just slice off whatever's twitching. We can always grow it back." Calmly, she took the gun out of Ed's hand. Ed, however, was in a much less zen state of mind.

"Grow it back? Humans don't just 'grow back'!"

"In this century, they do."

Ed groaned, and Alice darted out from the cover of the desk, and Ed blasted over the desk. He caught a cursory glance of Nirvana kicking Don in the head before being thrown against the plate glass window behind her. There was only a dull thunk, though, no shattering of glass or the sound of dripping blood, and Ed brought his mind forwards again to the threat at hand, which would be the bullets whizzing past.

_"Just slice off whatever's twitching. We can always grow it back." _What did he do if he got hit in the chest? His head? And what about other unmentionable parts of the body?

He bowled over a guard, and his stunned look was quickly reverted to one of utmost agony as Ed slammed a metal fist into his kidneys. The man crumpled, and a volley of bullets flew towards the pint-sized powerhouse of sheer, raw blonde teenager. The alchemist took out three more men with several well placed punches and kicks to the knee caps, liver, and kidneys. It was only a temporary fix, of course, and some of them didn't go down until the fourth, fifth, maybe sixth hit, and several also got the drop on him with a bullet to the (wrong) leg or arm. He still could feel his arm twitching, but he luckily had his metal arm to make up for it, and he used it in full.

_Thanks, Winry, _Ed thought momentarily. Even against goons in the twenty second century, her servos and screws (at least, the shoulder bit) worked just fine. However, these bits and pieces were suddenly put the test as he suddenly found himself in a grappling contest with a man twice his size and an automail arm to match. This one, however, was a newer model of prosthetic limb. And by newer, it was bright, shiny, and probably beat out most of Ed's attached metal parts by a couple hundred years. Ed's eyes widened as his hand literally crumpled under the silver hand on the goon in front of him. The man grinned garishly with several silver teeth, his gray hair (probably dyed or genetically altered) swinging over feral, blue eyes. Ed's resolve suddenly strengthened as he heard the sound of servos pushing against the grip of the man in front of him, and he let out a roar as he began running forwards, ignoring the twitching in his left arm as he sent the man into a wall.

Ed kicked him triumphantly before hearing the snick of a gun turning on him. He ducked immediately, bullet holes opening up in the wall where he'd just been standing. Ed immediately started running, bullets following his progress before suddenly grinding to a halt as Ed dived behind a chair. There was the sound of a body hitting the floor, and Ed looked over cautiously. The man was rolling around in agony, his knee cap completely torn open. Behind him, he could hear Alice swallow hard.

"Good shot," Nirvana congratulated with a deadpan delivery. Don struggled against her elbow around his throat, but she only tightened her grip. He made a choked noise as Nirvana hiked her elbow higher, pulling the headlock into a choking noose. She glared at the man as his eyes bugged out of his head.

"Kicked me in the teeth, didn'tcha? Guess I should've seen that coming. I used to be so messy, and I never bothered to check for a pulse when I first started. I was wondering why a little _bug_ was stirring up so much trouble Underground. It's making a whole lot more sense now," she said. Her blonde hair was smeared with blood and sticking to her face. Her eyes were calm, though, and it scared Ed just a little to see just how unaffected she seemed to all of this. She was used to this sort of violence and chaos... Ed shuddered as he felt another string of twitches cycle through his arm and shoulder.

"Nirvana, wrap this up. This is beginning to hurt," Alice moaned, the left side of her face writhing as she pressed her wad of cloth to the graze wound. Nirvana sighed, and she dropped Don. The man turned on her with a knife, but Nirvana punched him square in the mouth, leaving him a bloodied, rolling mess on the ground. She picked up the knife calmly, and she raised a hand in a classic knife-thrower's stance. Ed's eyes widened, and he shouted, "Nirvana - !"

Too late. The knife made a dull _thunk _in the man's throat, and the sound of gurgling filled the air. Ed stared at the dying man before looking up at Nirvana. His eyebrows drew together, and he muttered, "You're a monster." Nirvana reached down and pulled the knife out of the man's throat, not even bothering to look up as she said, "I beg your pardon?" Alice looked just as shocked. Ed repeated it louder and more succinctly.

"You're a monster." Ed walked forwards, rolling the dead man over. Or, rather, not quite dead. He still had a pulse, even if it was fading. The knife had cut across his windpipe, but perhaps if Ed could use alchemy to just make a patch over it... Blood was bubbling around the wound as air filled pockets of the liquid, causing them to create bubbles.

"Hey, it's a shark-eat-dog world. You always wanna stay the shark," Nirvana said smoothly, spitting out a tooth on the ground. Alice watched, her eyes almost seeming to be clouded over as she stared at the dying man at Ed's feet. Ed stared at Nirvana for several more seconds before slamming his fist into her solar plexus. She doubled over with bugged-out eyes, surprised for the moment as the wind was knocked out of her lungs. Ed clapped his hands as best he could, and he pressed them to the man's neck. There was too much death here. This man didn't deserve to die this way. It wasn't their choice to make.

There was a bright light as alchemical energy was released into the air as powerful bright photons. Nirvana stared with blank disgust and distaste. Al only stared, shocked.

"You... you just... you just..." The man on the ground was breathing normally now, his throat sufficiently patched to keep him alive for little more than an hour or so. Edward stared defiantly as Nirvana ground her teeth, and she said, "Fine. If that's what you want." Suddenly, a sharp pain caused Ed to pause, and he looked down in confusion to see a knife stabbed into his abdomen.

"Stupid... bastard..." Don coughed as he laughed. He was quickly silenced with a metal hand to the face, knocking him out cold. Nirvana hauled Edward to his feet, and she said, "I hope you learned something today." She jerked the knife free of his abdomen, and he arced over in pain as a loud shout flew from his mouth. Alice seemed to be shell-shocked, unable to look away from the many events that had happened. Edward realized his vision was beginning to grow ragged on the edges as he was led towards the window. Nirvana motioned Alice over, and Ed stared at the window.

"What now?" Al asked in a whisper. The room lay in shambles, and it was quiet. All the guards were currently running to the wrong room, nearly a hundred floors beneath them, but that didn't mean they'd be gone forever. They'd already spent too much time fighting and talking. Nirvana slammed a hand in Ed's stomach, and he fell to the ground. He felt sheer, awful agony - and then nothing at all. He blinked and looked down, realizing that his skin was completely healed over. In fact, he was completely fine. What did she - ?

"I'll explain later. Turn off the opaque screen, and let's see if we can't hitch a ride," Nirvana said, walking towards Alice and taking her gun back from her. She stuck the gun in its holster and walked to the window. Edward was still transfixed by his healed stomach, slapping the skin experimentally. His attention was torn from this miracle by Nirvana's voice.

"Hey, Twentieth Century Man. Stop playing with your fat, and come over here," she ordered, the same amount of disdain in her voice as the first time she'd met him. It seemed that he'd lost her respect yet again, but Ed didn't care. She was a bitch, and that was it. She didn't deserve to mete out respect, much less receive any. He sauntered over and asked, "Yeah? What do you want? Shouldn't we be going after Kojak and Georgia?"

"Imal?" Al breathed, her eyes wide and worried. Her glance pleaded without words, but Nirvana ignored her. She said, "They know how to take care of themselves. We'll regroup."

"But the homunculi -"

"They're not stupid enough to go to the homunculi. Don's a power-hungry dog, and they know it. Without sufficient information, they're not going to hand over Kojak and the rest. It's too big a risk for them to take on their own. Sheesh, have a little faith, why don't ya?" Nirvana said as Al lifted the opaqueness of the windows to show the world outside. Speedsters flashed past on shiny bikes that hovered on magnetic fields, and high altitude maglev trains were glowing, shining worms that snaked between buildings on their magnetic plates. Traffic looked horrific as bright blue lev-cabs hovered over the metal grid of the city. Nirvana smirked despite the missing teeth and bloodied lip. She pulled up fist and flexed it, looking out into the traffic.

"Perfect. Rush hour," she said. Ed gave a bark of a laugh.

"You still use that term?"

"It sticks."

Ed nodded. It made sense what they were going to do. Even if Nirvana was conniving and seemed to have no regard for human life, she was smart and knew her way around the city. The guards would have a hard time getting through all this traffic, and all they'd have to do was hail (or, more like, hijack) a cab. At the least, they wouldn't get lost.

She wound back her fist, and the two looked at her with perplexed expressions.

"Nirvana, these buildings have polyfiber shield windows. You could shoot this window, and it wouldn't break. You're not seriously thinking about - " Al was cut off from her skeptical train of thought by the sound of a fist thumping into a window. Ed and Al both winced. That had to hurt. Nirvana shook out her hand, a grimace on her face. She sighed, and she said, "Well, that didn't work." She suddenly shoved her other fist into the glass, and it shattered with a loud, ear-busting noise. The entire pane fell in what seemed like slow motion. Ed's eyes widened. An entire body had smashed into this thing, and it hadn't shattered. How did -

Nirvana's arm shimmered without a drop of blood, though the skin was torn over the... metal? Nirvana was full of surprises. Ed looked into her face, noting the stoic expression and armored eyes that seemed to bristle at the thought of anything resisting her. Ed shot a sigh out of his nose, and he looked down the thousands foot drop. Traffic whizzed, making the ground almost invisible at this angle and height.

"Okay, neat trick. Now what?" Nirvana smirked. She grabbed the two teenagers by the wrists, and she leaped out the window.

* * *

"We are NEVER doing that again," Edward gasped, stumbling into the alley like a drunk. Nirvana shrugged her shoulders as the two teenagers collapsed against plastic bags of refuse. The both of them were tired and mentally strained. They'd literally hopped cars straight across the rush hour air-road straight towards a mag-lev on a lower level air-traffic lane. They'd literally rode the mag-lev all the way to a drop off pad, where they stunned passengers as they ran helter skelter towards the exit. After several alley turnings, clothing store shop-liftings, and lev-cab rides, they finally reached a suitable level underground where they would, perhaps, be safe for a little while.

"Tell me about it," Al groaned. She'd been quiet the entire walk under the one-way glass ceiling. They were on an upper level of the Underground, so the bottoms of shoes were visible from this point. She drew her knees towards herself, suddenly falling into contemplative silence. Nirvana scanned the street before heading into the alleyway.

"We need to go back to my warehouse, grab a few things, that sort of stuff. We're going to need lots more firepower, and Ed needs his arm back," Nirvana muttered. She suddenly kicked the wall behind her, making it ring. The walls here were metal, not brick or stone, and the inhabitants complained loudly. She slapped herself down on the ground, huffily drawing her legs into a lotus position.

"Why the hell did you have to do that! Sheesh, what do you have, Hero Syndrome or something? Now they know there's some rogue alchemist running around, and they'll be following all leads, including Don if he survives. I'll have to go back and take him out, make sure he hasn't breathed a word about what you look like..." Nirvana rubbed her temples, and Ed scoffed.

"What? You could've done it," he attempted, shooting in the dark for a way to rectify the mess he'd created. He rubbed his stomach subconsciously, the hoodie over his torso doing nothing to distract his fingers from the feeling of a hole in his shirt.

"Yeah - after I shoved a knife in his throat," Nirvana muttered. "That sounds utterly believable. Of course, he could've thought of it as a whole 'revive and let you die a thousand deaths' type thing, but he's not that imaginative." She brushed off her clothes, and she said, "Anyhow, we'll have to be careful. They scanned you two whenever we went through their security. They probably bribed the Security Bureau by now, telling them to watch out for specific slave codes. I know they've got a few men in there, considering it was hell trying to get out of their grip the last time I made bad with their family."

"What, you murder another of theirs too?" Ed asked darkly, his eyes glowering. Nirvana stared for several moments before saying in a somber tone, "I don't kill just anyone. I've got to have a sufficient reason." Ed scoffed.

"Assassin with a heart of gold?" he muttered sarcastically. Nirvana almost smiled.

"Try 'assassin with a twisted moral code.'"

"Guys, I hate to interrupt, but don't you think we should get these checked out?" Alice asked, pointing to her face, which was still jerking and twitching as the cellhacker poison continued working through her tissues. Already, the wound was fringed with a greenish-black tinge, a telltale sign that necrosis, premature death of the tissue, was setting in. Ed quickly shed his hoodie and servant-style shirt in order to look at his own graze wound, realizing that his shoulder was also beginning to show the same tinge of black cell death. He almost gagged. Revulsion rolled through his stomach at it, the unnatural cell death causing him to feel disgusted.

"Why don't you have the same thing?" Al asked Nirvana, and the blonde shrugged.

"They must not have hit all the right bits," she stated nonchalantly. "We'll have to get that looked at. Necrosis isn't something you play with lightly. I know a doctor on the upper level of the Underground. He's shady, but he works." Ed winced. Shady doctors didn't sound all that fun. Then again, he had worked with Knox, and that hadn't ended badly.

* * *

The Marcelliona men circled the Underground warehouse with looks of apprehension. They didn't like being here with the riffraff. It made them nervous. There were plenty down here that didn't like Marcelliona men. The family had a bad reputation of taking out some of their own randomly down in the Under-streets, and that didn't fly well with the people who lived here. It wasn't that they were afraid, of course. They were merely uncomfortable. However, they had a job to do, so it didn't matter how uncomfortable it made them. They'd have to suck it up and get on with it.

The warehouse was astoundingly quiet. There were no lights, no sounds, no signs of human life. It seemed that Agora was not an idiot. Unlike most, she had not come back to her home. It seemed such a waste, too, seeing as it had taken them a very long time to track down her exact address. And even so, this might not be it, either. Suddenly, there was a hush, and the men casually scattered. Someone was walking down the street towards the selfsame warehouse wearing a hoodie. Could this really be her...? Their respect for the admirable opponent suddenly plummeted. She was just like all the others. The idiots that decided to come back home to grab a few things, a few 'necessary' things like a favorite or lucky coin, some cash, or one of the amulets those Xingese always sold for protection against whatever it was that frightened them.

The person walked up to the security pad, typing in the code and doing the eye scan. It chimed with a cool voice, saying a strange name, and then the doors opened. The Marcelliona's henchman crept forwards, one at a time, and they hacked the warehouse easily. It seemed that the security was low grade, perhaps because Agora thought she was anonymous here in the lowest levels of the city. No one was safe from Marcelliona, though, not down here in this slum where rejects and standoffs and cornerhogs all congregate and accumulate the filth of the City of the All-Father.

They slipped into the warehouse, one by one, like black ink into a dark ocean. They went completely unnoticed. However, once inside, they noted something strange. All the lights inside the warehouse were off. They knew it was a residential warehouse, meant to be lived in and used, but surely she would've turned on all of the lights first. Perhaps she is suspicious she will draw attention to herself if she ventures such a bold action in her state of cover. It wouldn't help her, considering they'd already figured out where she was and that she'd returned. The head of the team motioned for the men to fan out.

Several swept the bedrooms. They didn't dare switch on the lights for fear of alerting her to their presence. It'd be much easier to tag her with a tranq dart to the arm or leg and take her as an inert body. However, despite this, they couldn't find her anywhere in the bedrooms. The training rooms she kept were dark and uninhabited. The kitchen was unused, no telltale glow from an element coil on the stove or a stray spoon left on the hyperpolished sandstone counter tops. It struck the team as eerie that this woman had slipped in and out from under their noses so easily.

The head of the team, Faxlit, frowned in apprehension. He almost seemed to prickle with unease as he shifted his smooth, large frame through another door, expecting to find some sort of sound, only to encounter absolute silence. He waved to a few men behind him, all who searched the room thorough using their night vision glasses. They weren't high enough up the data code column to get the new night vision eye-lens replacements, but then again, most of these guys were greens. Faxlit moved silently into the hallway, crouching down, and he said in a whisper-hush voice, "Anyone find anything? Anything at all? Even just an escape hatch?"

"Negs on both. All I've got are a couple of empty rooms," a voice said in response, his Widget picking up another teammate down the hall.

"Same for me. I haven't found anything, natch_._"

"Yeah, ditto. The kitchen's clean. Literally, this place practically glows in the dark..."

"Copy-paste that. Nothing but a bunch of dead comp-banks and a nice sound system I'd kill to have."

Faxlit stood up straight from his crouch, disappointed. He sighed.

"She's not here. We've swept this place top to bottom," Faxlit ordered. "Meet me in the living room. We'll get as many clues as we can while we're here. Boss won't be happy that she slipped right through our fingers."

"Man, we didn't even get our fingers around her. She just left," another crony said with a disgruntled tone, and Faxlit chuckled. He was glad he had a group with a sense of humor. The other group he'd lead were about as humorous as a blank screen. He edged down the stairs, looking over the dining room and living room from above. His eyes narrowed as he saw a quick flash of something between the couch and the marble table, but he suspected it was nothing. Suddenly, all the lights flashed on, and he had to shield his eyes and take off his night-vision glasses. He rubbed his eyes, and he said, "Freaking fathers, sheesh, give me a blip or something before you do that. That hurt." He could hear groaning over his communicator as others were also probably trying to recover from the sudden flash of light.

Suddenly, Faxlit was aware of a strange gas that was coming out of the air vents. It was reminiscent of carbon-smoke, the type of stuff that wafted off of dried bricks of carbon dioxide. He frowned, wondering if something had malfunctioned. Sometimes curious mixes of gases could...

The man dropped to the ground, dead asleep. All around the warehouse, the men dropped like flies, all put to sleep by the same strange gas filtering through the air vents. The lights suddenly turned off again, plunging the entire warehouse in darkness. Those few souls still awake let out surprised shouts as the lights flipped off. It was as if the warehouse were alive and vengeful of its trespassers. The superstitious ones gripped amulets under their clothes or put their hands together in a quick motion of prayer and luck. All was quiet.

A scream split the air, but it was choked off. The three that were left, all in separate places, turned towards the noise, suddenly incredibly wary. One of them unloaded an entire clip of bullets around him, screaming as he did. The dark was suffocating, and the only noises were the heavy sounds of breathing, the drone of the air vents, and... the dark chuckling of someone else in the warehouse that was neither of the three survivors.

"Who's still here?" one of them asked, voice shaking. They'd heard rumors about Agora... strange, gory, ugly rumors. She'd never shown to be truly as gruesome as the rumors told, but after the attack at the Marcelliona tower those rumors started to gain a shade of truth to them.

"Anderson," one replied.

"Becking," another answered.

The original inquirer answered, "Strotsham." There was tense silence. All three kept crouched positions, ready to attack whatever was assailing them.

"Where are you?"

"I'm in the kitchen."

"One of the bathrooms."

"Get to the kitchen, then. I'll follow. Find a light panel or something while you're going down there. This is just creepy." The new assumed leader, Strotsham, crept along, attempting stealthiness. He didn't last long.

In the kitchen, Anderson and Becking looked at each other. Considering that the lights weren't on, neither of them had found a light panel. However, Strotsham had yet to show his face and confirm that all light panels were either hidden or required some sort of special procedure. Sheesh, why couldn't they have gone with a normal switch or something? Stupid custom warehouses...

"Strotsham? Strotsham, where are you?" Becking asked, his voice serious and quiet. He frowned, tapping his Widget, just in case something was blocking his signal. Percussive maintenance still worked, even after all this time. Becking sighed, and he said, "I guess she got Strotsham, too." Anderson shivered.

"This is creepy. We should've snagged her in the street. It would've been easier. None of this hiding cess," he muttered. Becking winced at his liberal use of the 'c' word. He wasn't much of a swearer himself, and he didn't appreciate it, but then again, this was a high tension situation.

There was the sound of falling utensils from a cabinet, and they turned towards the noise. Very suddenly, Becking fell to the floor with a sickening thump, and Anderson let out a rather girlish shout as the man's hand landed on top of his boot. He flailed away to the side, regaining his composure as he felt his way around the dark, his night vision still deployed as he swept his gun over the large space of the kitchen.

"Show yourself!" he shouted, his voice cracking as it reached up an extra octave. Suddenly, something dark in a hoodie dropped down on the counter in front of him, and Anderson could only stare in amazement.

"Boo," said the creature before smashing a frying pan over Anderson's head and watching him drop like a sack of sand. Gold eyes glinted as the hooded figure dropped from the counter to the floor, crouching over the body and checking the pulse. It gave a grunt of affirmation. The man was still alive. He'd just wake up with a really bad headache and the scare of his life.

"Now where the hell is my arm...?"

* * *

Nirvana nudged a body with her foot, whistling. She nodded to herself, looking up at Edward.

"Not a bad job. You'd be a handy D-mon," she said with a smirk. Ed made a face of distaste, and he said, "Do I want to know what a D-mon is?"

"D means deleted. You get deleted from the system by the D-mon. It used to be the firm I worked with," she said in a matter of fact tone of voice. Ed rolled his eyes, rummaging through the fridge. Alice was currently hacking the Marcelliona mainframe, cleaning up the paper-trail pertaining to the raid. She was carefully deleting any information that pertained to Nirvana or her alter ego Agora as well as her location, assets, and other such things. If it wasn't on an e-doc, there was no way they were going to believe that it had actually happened. Just for added measure, she gave them a custom-made worm that would eat through any file that had the words 'ass', 'gay', or 'crack.' It was a childish prank, but it was worth it to get back at the people who'd screwed up her face.

"That sounds like an awfully cheesy name to me. Seriously, D-mon? You guys sound like a bunch of nerds," she muttered. Nirvana chucked a hunk of cheese at her, but she dodged artfully by ducking.

Ed looked back at Nirvana, and he asked, "Why did you get mixed up in that, anyways?" Nirvana looked over at him with a look of surprise.

"You're good with questions," she stated.

"I try," he quipped as he continued to search for something that looked mildly edible. Nirvana was silent as she hopped up on the counter. She looked down at the inert man on the floor. All of the men they'd knocked out would stay that way for the next two hours or so. Nirvana had suggested permanently sending them snoozing using carbon monoxide, but Ed and Al had been firmly against it, seeing as they could just as easily dump them near a shock house, and they'd never believe what had happened was real. Not to mention, no one wanted to go around saying they'd woken up next to a shock house. That was asking for humiliation. Especially with a story like theirs.

"I don't kill just anybody," she said defensively. She looked at the bodies, mentally beating them with a club. These were the same guys that had probably beaten to death entire families for dues that they owed to the Marcellionas for the use of their buildings, services, or just 'protection.' Nirvana shook her head, as if to shake loose those violent thoughts of murder. For once, the pipsqueak and his pipsqueak ancestor were right. Killing them wouldn't solve anything. It'd probably make things worse.

"You only kill people who are trying to kill you, right?" Ed asked drily, pulling out a tub of something that looked like very firm, very thick green jello. He frowned at it and put it back where he'd found it. Nirvana scoffed, and she said, "If that were true, half the people in this city would've been toasted in the ovens."

"Ovens?" Ed asked, looking back, curious. Nirvana rolled her eyes. "We cremate people. There's not enough room to bury them unless they're rich." Ed's eyebrows rose, and he only answered,"Oh." He went back to his rummaging. Alice picked up the thread of conversation from her spot at her touchscreen Tablet, and she said, "Well, what did Don do that he deserved a knife to the throat?" Nirvana didn't bat an eyelash at the reminder of her less-than-gentle attempt to dispatch the man.

"He killed an entire brothel of women because he didn't want to pay them all. And then he got an entirely new set, and he killed them, too, after another five months. It was a cycle that never quit. I decided to intervene myself," Nirvana said quietly, fiddling with a kitchen knife off the block next to her. Ed and Al stopped what they were doing, thinking about the significance of a death like that. They looked at her slowly, frowning as they thought hard, their moral gears being tested as they ground out what justified the murder of another fellow human.

"It wasn't a hired hit?" Ed asked, and Nirvana sighed.

"Money doesn't mean much to me, if you haven't noticed. I just like nice things every now and again," she stated, gripping the blade of her kitchen knife like a circus knife thrower ready to aim at a target. Instead of chucking it, though, she replaced it back into its holding block, and she stated, "There was a kid whose mom worked at the brothel during the first purge. His sister was in the second batch of girls so she could pay the cremation reps, and she was killed before she could pay all the debt. There's no use in trying to call law enforcement on it, because law enforcement doesn't _exist. _The homunculi are the only law, and they let anything happen as long as people keep dying and having more babies so that those can just spawn and die as well."

Al was quiet before asking, "Doesn't that mean that there are dozens of operations like that one happening right now? Why don't you kill them, too?" The question was innocent enough, despite its subject matter. Ed watched intently between the two. Nirvana shrugged, and she stated, "There are too many of them, and it'd draw too much attention. I'm righteous, not stupid. I can't help anyone if I'm dead." She looked at Ed with a pointed look, and Ed rolled his eyes. He rubbed his stomach idly.

"By the way, what did you do to me back there? Why am I still...?" He pointed to his stomach, and she laughed.

"A little alchemy and a little alphysics thrown in for good measure. We were already screwed on the alchemy front, so I decided I might as well. You're lucky you haven't been punched within the last couple of hours or so, though, or else your wound would've reopened," Nirvana said, hopping off the counter and walking over to the fridge. She opened up the bottom compartment, pulling out an entire row of different deli meats before just taking out a pack and eating the pieces one by one. Ed frowned at the meat compartment before gingerly pulling out a roll of prosciutto. He opened the package, sniffed it experimentally, and began eating it with gusto, hardly noticing the very chemical smell and strange, artificial taste.

"We need to get to a friend of mine, Jed," Nirvana said, mouth full of sandwich meat. She swallowed and finished, "He's got a biolab where we can fix up your face, Al, and he's a good enough mechanic that he can fix Ed's arm back on." Ed nodded, prosciutto sticking of his mouth as he mumbled. Nirvana frowned and asked, "What? Damn it, didn't your mother teach you not to speak with your mouth full? God."Al snickered.

Ed swallowed the whole roll, and he asked, "And then what after that?" Nirvana sighed, and she shrugged.

"Honestly? I have no idea."


	16. Recognition

**R E C O G N I T I O N**

Ed walked swiftly and soundly down the street, trailing after both Alice and Nirvana. He felt sick to his stomach, and he felt like dying at the moment, but at the least his shoulder was no longer twitching and the itch in his arm had gone away. Nirvana had had to do something to his arm with a few of impromptu-programmed nanos.

_"I apologize if I typed the codes wrong, in which case the nanos will probably eat you alive. Then again, it'll be a lot quicker than what the Marcelliona guys would do to you if they ever found you.__ This should get rid of the tracker ink in your skin, though, and technically you'll be home free." _Ed had walked away with less than fond memories of both needles and nanobots. She'd done the same to Alice, though the hacker had made sure to check all of the codes Nirvana had typed before allowing her to _slip a needle under her skin and unleash hundreds of mini-automatons in her bloodstream_. Ed felt himself shudder, and he nearly smashed into Alice in the process. They had stopped at the edge of an alley, and Nirvana waved them ahead.

They were in a section of the city that was well known for being a cheap medical district. The worn down medical signs on the doors were telltale to that. The street was no less grimy than those on the Underground level of the city, though, and pipes ran to and fro between buildings along with utility wire strands dangling between buildings and sparking dangerously in the late night hours. Edward watched them warily as they sprayed bright colored fireflies of electricity into the narrow, cramped streets.

"I've got a friend here, one I've known for a while. He won't rat us out. He'd be too afraid to," Nirvana said with a cheeky smile, and suddenly Ed noticed just a shade of Hilary's smile in her face before she disappeared down the street to a discreet door set inside of a gray, skinny building. She motioned for Ed and Alice to go ahead and come over. The both of them casually crossed the street, watching for fast cars that might blaze down the road out of nowhere. Nirvana pounded on the door.

No answer.

Nirvana pounded again. Ed and Al looked at each other.

No answer.

Nirvana finally kicked down the door, and sounds of protests rang out from inside. Alice held Ed back as she stormed into the house, shouting, "THADDEUS! THADDEUS, GET OUT HERE ALREADY! WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH YOU, MAKING ME WAIT?" Ed made a face at the absolute blatancy Nirvana was putting into her entrance, and now he could see that she _definitely _knew this guy. A scrawny, tall man with a long dark ponytail and a scraggly bit of beard glared from the hallway. His eyes glinted like those of a cat, and Ed suppressed a shiver. Alice had explained people who had bodmods were modified humans with animal or technological attributes. Ed, technically, was a bodmod himself because of his automail arm, so apparently the idea was older than most thought.

"Father damn every one of you. What the hell's the matter, shouting like you... own... the place. Nirvana, what the -?" He looked truly astounded to see Nirvana, but she ignored his astonishment and busied herself right into the apartment, making herself at home on his recliner and motioning on the wallscreen.

"Hey, Thaddeus, those two there have cellhacker poison in their system. That was about six or seven hours ago, so you don't have to worry about deep celldeath or anything like that, but they should probably get that looked at before it gets in to the bone. Ed over there needs his arm reattached, too, and it'd be helpful if you get me a bag of fries and a soda cuz I'm in need of some serious veg time." Thaddeus blinked, suddenly overwhelmed by all this, but he quickly began prioritizing everything. He motioned for Edward and Alice to step inside, and he began leading them to the back of the apartment.

"Sorry if everything's pretty cluttered. I haven't cleaned since who knows when," Thaddeus said tiredly, glancing over his shoulder. Headlights flashed through the blinds in a window, lighting up the reflective lenses in his eyes, and Ed shivered. It reminded him too much of a chimera, and he'd had too many run-ins with less than friendly half-animals. Thaddeus switched on a light, walking over a pile of medical texts piled at a door, and walked into an examination room. It was slightly grimy, but it looked safe enough for a doctor's room, and the room was in the same mint-green shade as most hospitals. It seems that that habit had not changed over the past few centuries.

"Sit down, if you would, and show me where it all is - oh, it's on your face. That'll be a bit of a toughie to fix, but nothing I can't handle. You'll just need some anesthetic here and there, and you'll be good as new once I'm finished. And you? Okay, your shoulder. Geez, you guys have to get hit in all the hard spots. I usually get people hit in the legs or back." Thaddeus rambled to himself as he began preparing different anesthetics and tools, and Ed felt his stomach turn as different instruments of medicinal use were displayed on a tray.

"Sit down, both of you, one on the table and the other in a chair. I'll get you done first -" He pointed to Alice before switching over to Ed. "-and I'll finish you up last so I can fix that arm of yours." Edward quickly sat down in the chair, glad he'd dodged the bullet, as he watched Alice sit in the chair with a wary look. Thaddeus held a cylinder with a rolling ball at the end, and he said, "This is the anesthetic. You won't feel any of the needles, but they're there. It might tickle, so try to hold still." Thaddeus was very calm about everything, describing what he was going to do in clinical detail, but not so much that it would frighten his patient. Edward eventually fell asleep in his chair, tuckered out from the day's events, right as Alice's mini-surgery was finished. She had a large, glassy looking shield stuck to her face full of a strange liquid as she sat up, and she asked, "And this? What's it for?"

"It's a portable incu-tank. The parts of your face I had to get rid of will grow back by tomorrow, and you won't even notice that it was ever missing in the first place. It's got a good, steady supply of anesthetic, so you shouldn't feel anything. If you start feeling prickling pains or anything while it's still attached, you should tell me because that means that it needs to either be removed or the anesthetic's beginning to wear off and run out," he said, sending her down the hall. Before she could leave, though, Thaddeus asked, "And do mind getting me a drink? It's in the fridge in the kitchen. It's the door that's got the giant red X painted on it."

"What's with the red X?" Alice asked suspiciously. Thaddeus' face twitched into a grimace, and he said, "It had to be forcefully fumigated once. That was five years ago, though, it should be fine now. No traces of chemicals, I swear." Alice walked away, less than convinced, but never the less did as he said. By the time she'd traversed the hallway, got him a bottle of soda, and navigated the piles of junk back, he was already beginning on Ed's shoulder. He looked vaguely surprised by Alice's suddenly presence, but he took the bottle of soda with thanks.

Alice peered over his shoulder at Ed, who was thoroughly knocked out, and she felt her stomach turn. Thaddeus had already removed the deadened skin and part of the muscle, so there was just a gleaming mass of pinkish-red tissue outlined by pus and dead blackish-green cells.

"How do you not puke?" she asked incredulously, and Thaddeus shrugged.

"I've always had a pretty strong stomach," he stated, and he carefully repositioned the lasers he was using to carefully slice off the dead tissue. Alice left him to his gruesome work, fingering the shield on her face and wondering what, exactly, was so interesting that Nirvana could stand to stare at a wallscreen for more than twenty minutes.

It wasn't long before Ed finally woke up, surprised to see that his wound had been literally vacuumed sealed under a sheet of plastic. He looked up at Thaddeus blearily and realized that he was working on his automail arm, fixing it where it had been shredded by a saw. He wasn't doing a half-bad job, either.

"You're an automail mechanic?" Ed asked, but he realized the answer pretty quickly when he saw that his shoulder joint had been fixed up while he'd been snoozing as well. Thaddeus answered, nonetheless, "Yes, I am a mechanic as well as an Underground doctor. Don't ask me about the mentality, because I honestly can't tell you." Ed shrugged. At least he didn't throw wrenches... Edward sat up, and he asked, "Why did I get one of those little glass thingies for my shoulder?"

"The incu-tank?" Thaddeus asked curiously, his eyes never leaving his work. "Well, your wound's big enough that I'd need a pretty big mini-model, which I don't have. I've decided to vacuum seal it now to keep the bugs and nasties out for now, and I'll have you sleep in an actual incu-tank, which means you'll be finished with that giant hole in your shoulder within eight hours. First, I need to fix your automail, though, or else Nirvana will skin me." Ed chuckled at the thought of Nirvana going ballistic at this poor man. It was sadistically humorous.

"How do you know Nirvana, anyways?" Ed asked, and Thaddeus looked over his shoulder sheepishly. He grimaced and sighed.

"She saved my life once. She never lets me forget it," Thaddeus stated, welding another bit onto Ed's automail. "Freakin' A, this thing is old. I'm surprised I even have any pieces lying around that'd work with it. How the hell did you get your hands on a piece of metal this antique?" Ed felt a vein in his head throb.

"It's _not _an antique," Ed growled, and Thaddeus shrugged.

"Whatever," Thaddeus said, shrugging it off. Ed sat there for several more minutes, staring at the tiled ceiling and wondering what they were going to do after this.

"How'd she save your life?" Ed asked, needing _something _to say. Thaddeus made a contemplative noise, and he said, "It's a long story."

Ed retorted, "I'll be here for a while. Go ahead and recount while I'm lying here waiting for the inevitable." Thaddeus grinned dryly and said, "All right, it's your eardrums, not mine." He sighed, cracking his knuckles and stretching his back.

"I got into a fight in a bar, and there were probably three guys ganging up on me because I had, idiotically, insulted the mother of triplets. I took out one, but the other two got the jump on me, and I already had a knife to the jugular. Nirvana got there a little late, but she made sure the other two were incapacitated and plugged a finger in my artery. She took me home, I fixed myself up, and she needed a good automail mechanic for her illegal variation. End of story," Thaddeus said modestly. "We've been best buds ever since, you could say."

"That wasn't exactly the saga I was expecting," Ed stated. That was awfully anticlimactic. Believable, but anticlimactic.

"Eh, that's life." Thaddeus put in another part, and it sparked unexpectedly. Thaddeus lifted off his welding goggles, and he said, "Finished. I'll put you under and attach it."

Ed sat up in amazement. "You're not going to make me stay awake?" Thaddeus blinked, frowned, and said vehemently, "Hell no! God, what are you, a masochist? What did these people do to you? You got it put on the old-fashioned way? Damn, you must've been desperate for an arm." Ed scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. The Rockbell twins had left him awake when they'd fixed it, but then again they hadn't done any of the reattachment, just the inner workings.

"Sorry. Not used to the, uh, normal way. How _do _you put it on the other way anyways?" Ed asked, suddenly curious. Thaddeus walked over to a large machine with a big, clear screen with a crack running through it.

"This thing tells me which nerves are active and which aren't. I can use this to hook up nerves because they'll still be sending signals - the signals just don't reach the brain. This is the day and age of tech, man, where have _you _been?" Thaddeus asked as he hooked up several wires to Ed's shoulder.

Ed figured he didn't want to know.

Suddenly, there was a furious knocking noise, though it was muffled through the amount of junk in the hall and the second door in the way of the sound. Thaddeus turned back with a strange look, and he muttered to himself, "What now?" He walked over to the door and opened it, surprised to find Alice talking to someone animatedly down the hall with a young man with squinty eyes and a less than happy expression.

"SCREW THAT! YOU GUYS LEFT ME!"

Ed's eyes widened. _Zhang. _They'd completely forgotten about the Xingese emissary in the ensuing chaos, and he realized that the little Westerner had actually survived the city _by himself _and managed to track them down. Al suddenly caught the small man, and Ed realized that he hadn't gotten away without some injuries.

"Great," Thaddeus sighed. "More work."

* * *

"Man, I'm glad Alice inherited some resourcefulness from her mother," Kojak said, sighing as he did so. He had a small light in his hand, and it illuminated the faces of the escapees around him. All of them were in tunnels full of sewage that ran through the sectors of the city that no one wanted to look at. It was a sublevel even lower down than the Underground called the Mole Lair. It was a good place to hide, and it was easy to get to. It was just, no one wanted to go there.

They'd escaped the giant sky-scraper in the ensuing chaos caused by Nirvana and her little fire fight. Most guards had gone towards a false alarm in another room, and Kojak easily took out several of the guards that had been watching them. They'd escaped through the kitchen into a garbage hatch. They'd come close to being sent to the city's incinerator near the Abyss that circled the metropolis, but they'd managed an escape from the garbage capsule they had ended up caught in. It was pretty smooth sailing from there, despite nearly running into a few of their own captors at some points.

"Could you track Ed and Al's signals from their trackerjacked ink?" Georgia asked wearily, and Kojak frowned. He shook his head. He looked over to Imal and asked, "Any luck?" The dark-skinned boy shook his head solemnly without expression. Georgia could see the tenseness in his face, though. He was worried about his sister. He didn't like being away from her for so long. In the dark, somebody's back popped, and all heads turned towards Grayson. He stared innocuously.

"What?" The refugees all shook their heads, rolling their eyes. They were all a little jumpy, given their unorganized and rather near-disastrous escape. They'd almost been captured a few times until Grayson had remembered a special something about the city. They'd hopped down into the sewers, disappearing into the very bowels of the city (as literal a description as there was). The people who lived here in this almost subhuman level of poverty were strange, but hospitable, if a little bit crazy. Only those willing to live in the sewers ever attempted. No one who lived in the Mole Lair was there due to circumstance or hard times. They'd all come here with clear intentions.

"What do we do now? Find Nirvana?" Guun asked. He'd been given a strange sort of medical help from a doctor down in the Mole Lair. They'd been skeptical, but it had killed the pain in Guun's wounded shoulder and he was in working condition, so they guessed that whatever he'd been given had done its job. Kojak shook his head in answer to Guun's question.

"She's probably gone cold and deep. She'll hide somewhere in the Underground for a while before poking her head up to sniff the air. We ourselves should do the same. We'll catch up to her, don't worry," Kojak said, reassuringly smiling. Despite this, things looked very bleak for the small band. For all they knew, Nirvana, the Elrics, and Zhang could be dead. They could be wounded and lost. They could be _wishing _for death, even, or they could be living fat and happy in another of Nirvana's hideouts somewhere in the city. None of them knew, though, and that was hard on them to be so in the dark.

"We'll probably head back to the surface in the next two days to see if the smoke's cleared. If there are still people after us, we'll have to find a place in the Underground. I don't know if I can stand to stay here for too long," Georgia said, making a face at the muck on the bottom of her shoes. Guun almost smiled as he rumbled, "I didn't take you for a frimpy girl." Georgia quirked an eyebrow.

"I just don't like being dirty. It's a military thing."

"Guys, I think it'd be a good idea if we kept our stay here shorter than just two days," Grayson said nervously. He looked over his shoulder into the near-complete darkness, and the sound of chittering rats came closer. Suddenly, a flood of them rushed past, weaving between feet and ignoring the screams of surprised humans. They left as soon as they came.

"What was that about?" Georgia asked, and Grayson said tremulously, "I, uh, I forgot to tell you about something that happens in the tunnels. It happens every few months. It's also the reason why we don't see anyone here right now." They all looked at Grayson with ominous looks.

Imal finally said, "They flood the tunnels, don't they?" It seemed as if they would never get a break.

"Uh... well, yeah. I think they do it every second Tuesday of the month. What day is today?" Grayson asked. Kojak removed his Widget from his ear, and he clicked several buttons before it popped up a holographic screen. He frowned as he said, "Today's the fifteenth of June." Everyone held their breath.

"The second Tuesday of this month."

"Damn it!" Georgia cursed, stamping her foot. Several rats scurried away as the sound traveled through the tunnels. Georgia cringed as she heard herself over and over in the echoes of the cavernous byways. It was tensely silent before Guun asked, "What now? We head for the surface before they start flooding?"

"Only choice we got, unless you know another way," Kojak said, starting down the tunnel again towards a ladder he'd thought he'd seen. "Otherwise, take a third option and start growin' gills." The survivors looked to one another and decided that perhaps it was best to follow the black man before they got lost.

* * *

Zhang looked up at Ed and said, "So. What happened to you?" Ed looked down at his vacuum-sealed wound, and he winced.

"Got shot."

"Oh." Zhang lay back down on the surgical table. He'd been stabbed in the back three times, two cellhacker infestations in his leg, several different nicks and cuts on his feet from walking barefoot (he said his shoes were stolen off his feet while sleeping), and he was missing part of his liver (there were organ-thieves around this area).

"Oh, and they got most of your kidney, too. I can graft on another part of a kidney if you want," Thaddeus said, looking up from a vat of different organs. Ed's stomach turned. This was just _too weird. _Organs shouldn't be flung around or stolen like spare parts to a piece of automail. Zhang shook his head and stated, "If I wanted a replacement, I would've gotten a graft from my remaining kidney. I don't want someone else's kidney. I want _mine._" Thaddeus rolled his eyes and stated, "Fine, whatever. Though if I were you, I'd take a kidney if it was there. Nirvana's footing the bill anyways." Zhang was indignant.

"It's a morals thing, okay? How do I know that kidney wasn't stolen?"

"Because I grafted it, numbnut. I genetically built it myself. It's a designer organ," Thaddeus said, almost sounding miffed at the fact someone would even suggest he would buy black market organs. Ed shuddered and said, "What the hell is wrong with you people? Stolen organs, grafted organs, designer organs?" Thaddeus and Zhang stared at him as if he came from another century (a little bit too literal, in fact), and Thaddeus said, "You really have been out of it the past hundred years, haven't you?"

Ed sighed, leaning his face into his hand. "Educate me, then." Thaddeus walked over to a tank, and he pointed.

"This is a tank full of organs which have been built up from a single cell. I can actually make higher performing organs by tweaking certain areas of their intended job functions, thereby boosting their efficiency. Some people aren't smart enough to do that, so what they do is drug a person and steal just a part of their organ, enough of it that it's still functional but not enough to kill the person they're stealing from. Unfortunately, hearts, stomachs, and intestines get a little tricky in that area, and they just kill undesirable people around here for them." Ed winced. That just added to his nightmares. People coming to steal his liver in the middle of the night...

"So, you can graft an organ... from someone else onto another person?" Ed asked, and Thaddeus shrugged.

"More or less. It's a little bit more difficult than that, though. Some organs will be rejected by the new host, so I have to figure out what's the matter with it. Most of the time, if I've got the time, I'll take a piece of living organ from the person who needs the spare and I'll just build from the ground up. It usually takes a few weeks, though, and Nirvana said you'll be staying here only for a couple days before moving again," Thaddeus stated, running a hand through his scraggly black hair. He narrowed his eyes at Zhang and pointed.

"Which means you're getting a new liver, whether you like it or not."

"What? You just said that there's a chance of rejection -!"

"My organs don't normally reject the host. That's a crackjob's work to get his organs rejecting its new owner!"

Ed palmed his face as they argued. He needed sleep. That was it. A good night's sleep, and everything would be peachy keen.

* * *

**A/N: **I sincerely apologize to readers for dragging my feet. I also apologize for neglecting you all, considering you people love this story (I hope) and a lot of you have subscribed (I know, wrong word, bear with me), favorited, or reviewed this story many times over. Therefore, I'm going to recognize all of you in one go, and from here I'll thank all those people who review/subscribe/favorite the story, because you need love and I've been pretty unlovey.

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**Reviewers:**

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Please do tell me if I forgot anybody, or if your name wasn't on the list. I like to recognize those people who do all that... you know, fanfiction stuff, lawlz. And to those who I can't put a name down mainly because you don't have a name (not literally, I mean username) or you're not one of the three, I love you guys too. Like, platonically. It'd be odd otherwise.

PEACE OUT.


	17. Survivor

Edward woke up disoriented and confused. He had the sensation of floating and what he was breathing was _not _air, and yet he wasn't drowning. Almost in a panic, he tried to move, and he found that they were inhibited by strange stickers attacked to his skin with wires trailing from them. He was on his back, almost buoyed by the fluid around him, and he pushed up on the glass surface above him. He was in a tank. Ed filed away all this information clinically, trying to piece everything together.

He'd been injured. He had his shoulder fixed. He had both arms now, and his leg felt better after a tune up. He'd been placed in a tank after going under an anesthetic that had knocked him out very fast and... here he was now. A better question - what had woken him up? Edward attempted to pry open the lid to his liquid prison, but he couldn't figure out how to get out of the seamless glass box he was trapped inside. He ran his fingers as far as he could over the edges, but he couldn't find any purchase. Finally, he noticed a small, almost invisible panel on the box. It was dark, so Ed couldn't hardly see a thing, though he was slowly getting more and more used to the darkness around him. Finally, he managed the panel, opening up an even bigger panel made of light across the glass ceiling of his tank. He punched in a few things, and the box opened with a slight whisper.

Ed quickly lifted his head above the fluid, breathing air much too quickly and coughing as it rushed into his lungs to replace the breathable fluid he'd already been inhaling. He managed to get out of the tank only to realize that the only thing he was wearing were a pair of briefs. He looked around in the darkness, and he realized that he'd been woken up by a noise. There was the sound of someone rummaging through the hallway, and Ed slowly inched over in the darkness. He passed a tank containing Zhang, serenely floating in his own sea of goo, and quietly opened the door. He saw a hooded figure searching through the contents of a drawer, frantically going through them, throwing things out, packing certain items into a bag with practiced haste.

Ed opened the door a little wider, squinting to get a better look. This person was tallish, but he (or she) was also very thin and wiry. It was most definitely not any of the current inhabitants of the apartment.

"Hey," Ed called out loudly, groggily irritated and probably not up to snuff in terms of reasoning at the moment. The person turned, showing they were both male and fairly young. They stared at each other... and the man suddenly dived towards Ed, a knife in hand. Edward, however, despite being groggy was a little bit more ready for this reaction after his brain made the connection between the unfamiliar face and the rummaging through drawers. Ed deflected with his automail hand, the knife glinting off into the darkness, while his other hand boxed the man's ear. The man let out a short yell as Ed kicked him in the stomach, sending him flying backwards.

The man scrambled to stand back up, but Ed towered over him, shoving his foot into the man's stomach. He narrowed his eyes, and he asked, "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Suddenly, the lights were flicked on, and Nirvana stood in a doorway wearing only a tanktop and panties. Ed lost his concentration for minute as he realized his face had heated up. He wasn't used to that sort of casualness! The man took the chance to free himself, but he was handily put back in his place by a jab of Ed's metal foot to the side of his knee. The man let out a pained shout, curling up around his newly bruised appendage.

"Huh. Good job," Nirvana stated without inflection. From behind her, Thaddeus appeared, and he blinked in the light. He was wearing a tanktop and boxers, towering over Nirvana as he peered over her head into the hallway. Ed suddenly realized that the two must've shared a room while he'd been asleep, and he quickly edged his mind away from the implications. Times were different after all. Perhaps it wouldn't mean the same thing as it had back in 1915...

"Damon? It's a frikkin' three in the morning. What the hell are you doing in my apartment?" Thaddeus asked in a rather unsurprised, but still unhappy, tone of voice.

"This happens often?" Ed asked incredulously. Society really _had _deteriorated since the 1900s! Even then, they could at the least leave their doors unlocked and not expect anyone to just waltz in and _take _things. And of course, the slavery was an issue. So were the clothes (some of these people left nothing to the imagination). And then there were the things they watched...

"Unfortunately, yes. Damon, however, I expected more from. Again, what the hell are you doing in my apartment at three in the morning stealing my stuff? Don't even try to deny it. The scalpel that just fell out of your pocket costs more than your freedom rights and slave-worth combined," Thaddeus said, rubbing his eyes. His black, curly hair was in disarray and he looked especially tired with the bags under his eyes and the jaded look on his face. Damon stared up at Thaddeus, mouth agape, before saying, "They're lookin' for someone. Dunno who. Just... they're lookin'. 'N shit's goin' down, man. It's goin' way down, and I don't want to be the hell here. Gotta get out of the underground. It's gonna start again." Thaddeus suddenly paled, and he nodded.

"You wanted to give me a heads up about that?" he asked, gulping slightly. Damon stared bleakly at Thaddeus, and he nodded.

"Just came to pick up some stuff I might need Up Top," Damon said, giving an empty smile. His eyes were dull and almost pocked, as if they were made of plastic and chipped in places. He stood up, and Ed allowed him with a guarded stare. He dumped his bag, revealing the multitude of things he'd stolen. He put his bag over his shoulder, and he trudged towards the door, moving around piles of texts and dead monitors and pieces of random equipment. When they heard the front door to the flat close, Thaddeus sighed.

"Looks like you guys are going to be moving again soon," he said quietly, almost inaudibly even. Nirvana, whose face was a carefully set mask, nodded.

"We'll take an inter-level subway day after tomorrow. We need to get up to the loading platform where we can be picked up. Our deadline is in a week," she said solemnly. Ed wasn't quite sure what was going on, but he knew for certain that they were in a bit of a pickle. They'd be left behind if they couldn't get to the loading platform where all the supplies were being shipped. It was going to 'Drachman Territory', which in reality was actually Briggs, or rather what was left of it.

"What's going on?" Ed asked. The two seemed to ignore him, and anger rose into his face and voice as he demanded louder, "Tell me what the hell is going on! You guys leave me in the dark like that's my place! Well, too bad, bastards, I'm part of your world, and I want to be informed." Thaddeus looked shocked at Ed's rather venomous outburst, but Nirvana didn't seem too fazed. She leaned against the doorjamb, and she said, "You really want to know what's going on?" Ed felt a sudden spike of unease at the way she said that phrase, but he nodded nevertheless.

She sighed, shrugging. She said, "All right. Father, the big man on campus, decided that he needs to find the alchemist who went and did unchartered alchemy within a circle of the city without being registered. No doubt, he'll flush the entire Underground looking for any rogue alchemists, and they can tell who is and who isn't by brain fluid content, and a brain fluid content test is not a fun thing. We're being hunted because you decided that Don was worth more than our skins. And if we're caught, we'll be either integrated or wasted." Ed frowned.

"Wasted?" Nirvana said, with a grim smile, "Thrown into the abyss. They say it takes an entire day to fall down that entire chasm, and by that time you're already dead, or wish that you were. A wasted little corpse dropping onto another million little other corpses." Ed felt a cold sweat begin to spread across his body.

"Who do they send to root out the alchemists?" Ed asked. Nirvana shrugged.

"Thad, what do you remember from the last Purge?" she asked, and Thaddeus rubbed his chin in thought.

"Man, I was about five years old then. Sheesh, nearly thirteen years ago, or something like that. I'm getting old. Uh, well, they sent in some of those really ugly looking artificial soldiers. A few alchemists helped out with that, keeping control of the AS2.0s. I'm pretty sure they put up some notices for bounties on people they knew for sure were practicing alchemists underground, and they hired a few of the dominating families from Aboveground to search for alchemists or rat out their own families. It was mayhem," Thaddeus said. His face suddenly sobered, if that were possible.

"Mom was a chemist, and that was close enough for them," he stated in a small voice, and Nirvana took his hand, rubbing her thumb over the back. She looked at Ed and stated, "The Purge dates back to the early days of Patron City. Probably at least 1950s or so. It became standard every ten years, and then every fifteen years, and then they did a Purge every time it seemed that they were running out of alchemists to keep the circles running and repaired."

"And then there are the rare times when it's not because they need alchemists. It's because there are too many to control," Thaddeus said. He gave a pointed look to Nirvana.

"Or there are free-range alchemists too dangerous to be running around," he said sharply, and Nirvana shrugged off his stare. Nirvana said, "They take whoever they can find, test them, and usually those that undergo testing don't survive without medical help. Those that are alchemists, they torture into integration and an electronic bond to some homunculus around the city. Then, you become a lap dog for the city. If you survive the torture, and you're a tough cookie who doesn't know when to quit, they waste you. Not a fun proposition. They usually check around the Underground first, and they're a little bit more choosy as they move on up the levels. Sometimes the upper level send in samples of their brain fluid content, but those are only the idiots. It has to be done by a certified, electronically bonded medical specialist who works for the city or else it doesn't count as a real 'test'." Ed leaned against the wall, dizzy by all the new information.

"Okay, new question. What's electronic bonding?" Ed asked, and Nirvana's lips pressed together into a thin, fine line. She looked up to Thaddeus, and he grimaced infinitisemally. He turned around, and he lifted the shag of curly, black hair off the back of his neck. A gruesome, long scar ran down from the nape straight down beneath his shirt.

"There used to be a chip along with a large metal cord. It attaches to the spinal cord, and a jack is in the middle. You can be uploaded with specific orders and deadlines, and you'll always be aware of them. If they aren't finished by the deadline, a toxin is released and you're sick for days until it gets finished, and then it emits a bunch of scrubber-nanos to get rid of the toxin," Thaddeus explained. He released his hair, turning around. His eyes looked haunted, remembered pain almost seeming to dance behind as he stared at Ed.

"Higher level government officials and the city's entire group of task forces employ them. I used to be owned until my mother paid for my freedom," Thaddeus said, yawning as he did so. Edward's gaze turned downward, thinking hard. Thaddeus had more going on that Ed had expected.

"We'd better go to bed. Zhang's not done healing, and I'm not too happy with Alice's incu-tank. It malfunctioned a few hours ago, and I had to fix it, so we'll have to see if the fluid worked or not. Ed, you'll need to be getting back into that tank of yours, too. Your shoulder's not done yet. Luckily, you didn't tear the new skin," Thaddeus said. Ed nodded, glancing at his shoulder. The pink, new growth was raw and still had a sheen of white over it along with pinpricks of pink. The dermis was laid, but the epidermis had yet to be established due the dermis being so new. Ed's shoulder was a bit sore, but he'd expected that. However, staring at it now, he felt a little sick staring at it.

Ed nodded, heading back towards his tank in the back room. Both Nirvana and Thaddeus watched as Edward closed the door behind him, and Thaddeus said quietly, "Poor guy. He most be overwhelmed." N

"He'll get over it," Nirvana said roughly. She brushed past Thaddeus into the kitchen, and he followed behind with a frown.

"Sheesh, would it kill you to be a little bit more sensitive towards him? He's never been in the city before, and as an alchemist that has to be kind of worrying," Thaddeus said, leaning on the island in the middle of his kitchen. Nirvana clicked through a series of revolvable shelves, but she was unsatisfied with all that she found. She turned back around, and she said, "Actually, yeah, I think it _would _kill me. You know why? Noobs tend to get dead real fast, and I'm turning him into a not-Noob so we all don't end up in some compost heap or Abyssal wastes. So excuse me if my tactics are not exactly gentle." Thaddeus' eyebrows met as he frowned.

"Vana..." he murmured, and Nirvana turned to look at him over her shoulder at the change in tone. Her eyes seemed to soften, and she turned around. Thaddeus walked around the island, and they stood almost toe-to-toe, her head barely reaching his shoulder. He looked down at her with a sad, hurt look and stated, "You've changed." Nirvana's lips drew together into a thin line of white, and she asked, "And?" Thaddeus felt as if he were scrutinized underneath a microscope. Nirvana was always so observant.

"I don't know what it is that got you here in the City, or what the hell you've gotten yourself into, or why I am even letting you stay here but... Nirvana, I don't know what it is, but something's just not quite the same. Not like last time. You were - "

"Naive and an idiot?" Nirvana finished bitingly. She brushed past Thaddeus, but he grabbed her by the wrist. She turned back to stare at him, whipping her head around so fast her hair splayed out as she spun to face him.

"You weren't a bitch," Thaddeus said vehemently. "And now... I don't know what it is that's gotten into you, but that's what you are. The Bitch Queen." Nirvana's eyes widened. A face flashed in her mind, of a person with white-blond hair, black eyes like searchlights, and a uniform as dark as her freaking heart. _"Heh, the PMS queen, am I? What does that make you?"_ She snorted as if she didn't care, but Thaddeus didn't let go of her. He brushed a hand through her hair, letting go of her wrist.

"'Vana, I missed you. But now I'm not so sure I know if you're _you _anymore," Thaddeus said, his face melancholy and drawn. "You just left without a word. No warning, no note, nothing. At least you could've taken me with you. Do you know what that did to me?" Nirvana stared at the ground stolidly, and she mumbled irately , "You probably cried your eyes out like the baby you are and then moved on with your life, just like I thought you would." Thaddeus embraced Nirvana suddenly, and she was shocked into silence. After several minutes, she returned the embrace, burying her face into his shirt.

"When you leave, I'm going with you," Thaddeus said, resting his chin on her head. "You're going to need someone to make sure those grafts take on all three of your friends." Nirvana disengaged, and she shook her head.

"Thad, you can't come with us. At least you're stable here, even with a Purge - "

"The Purge doctors will kill me and you know it." Nirvana's mouth snapped shut. He was just rendering her speechless every other second, wasn't he? It was true, though. The Purge doctors _would _have him killed because he'd had his electronic bond removed (and what else could he be but a very smart, very talented alchemist who knew someone whom could remove it?). That, or they'd attempt to reinstate him as an alchemist only to realize he wasn't and _then _have him killed.

"All right. You can come with us. But no questions asked, if I tell you to leave you leave. We're in deeper than a bug in a registry," Nirvana said tiredly. Thaddeus put a hand on the back of her neck, rubbing the side with his thumb as he steered them both back to their room.

"You still trust me?" Nirvana asked quietly, her words nearly inaudible. Thaddeus came close to smiling.

"Always."

* * *

"How many more do we have to upload?" Zhang groaned. He lie on the couch, one arm flung over his eyes to keep out the dirty, filtered streetlight out of his eyes. Ed was likewise in an armchair, sprawled out and tired. Alice hummed as she thought this over, and she said, "Probably another fifty or so texts." Zhang and Ed moaned pitifully, curling up in pain.

They'd both been taking turns carrying all of the textbooks in the house to the living area and cataloging, stacking, and moving them. Afterwards, they had to also copy the information from the textbooks to a much more portable disk-drive that was shaped like a cylinder and no longer than Ed's forefinger. It looked like it could probably exceed the speed of sound. However, in order to copy the textbooks' 'hard copy' onto the disk drive, they had to power a generator by running while a machine (that happened to be a little bit illegal) scanned all of the pages. In order to do ten textbooks, the boys had to run for an hour, and they'd been working since five that morning.

"We'll never finish," Ed cried, over-exaggerated tears streaming down his face. Alice rolled her eyes, brushing a strand of purple hair away from her face.

"Come on. Thaddeus needs all of these on a disk drive if he'd going to be coming with us, and Nirvana will whip the both of you to pieces," Alice urged. Zhang looked up at the reference of being whipped with a suddenly interested look, and Alice shot him a dirty glance. Zhang laughed nervously.

"I didn't say anything. I didn't say anything." Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and Alice bounced out of her seat. She walked past the scanning machine to the door, and she opened it.

Suddenly, she screamed, and both boys sprang into action. They leaped over fallen household debris and furniture, staring into the doorway with horror.

Several Artificial Soldiers were outside their door, and one of them had Alice by the throat. Alice's scream was choked, her windpipe shrinking to the size of a straw, and Ed acted first. He immediately punched the Artificial Soldier holding Alice, forcing him to drop her, and swung a leg across the ankles of another one in the doorway. Nirvana came out to see the ruckus, and her eyes widened, her brain not able to process what was happening. Zhang had already downed several of the soldiers himself that were trying to come in. There had initially been three, but now they were multiplying as more troops came to the aid of their comrades.

"Stop fighting them! Just stop fighting them!" Nirvana shouted. However, it was too late. By the time Thaddeus, who'd been in the back room, could come out and see what was going on, his house was nearly overrun with Artificial Soldiers. Several of them had shock-rods, and they weren't afraid to use them.

"It's started," Thaddeus breathed before dragging Alice, the closest person to him, into the back room with him, throwing closed the five locks on the door.

"NO! LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT OF HERE! I HAVE TO HELP THE-"

"You won't do any good if they get you and I have no one to help me heal the ones that've been tested," Thaddeus stated calmly as he held her by the shoulders, staring her in the eye. Alice stopped, sorting through his logic, and she finally nodded her consent. He said, "I built this room with a Purge in mind, seeing as I knew one was due any day, not to mention I have several people who are not too happy with me at present. This should keep them out for now." Suddenly, it occurred to Thaddeus that there was no more sound. He frowned. He shooed Alice away from the door, dragging his long thin fingers through his hair. He turned on the surveillance cameras stationed around his house, the console blinking in readiness as he pulled up a camera.

"Are they still out there?" Alice asked, her voice no louder than a breath. Thaddeus' own breathing was rapid and slightly panicked as he stared. The soldiers, nearly all, were dead. Every single one was completely and utterly destroyed. In the grainy video he could see that Ed, Nirvana, and Zhang were still alive and still kicking, but they were half-buried under the bodies of Artificial Soldiers.

"Something's not right. They're all dead," Thaddeus said, bolting from his chair. Alice looked into the screen, frowning. There was a man standing at the door, calmly looking in...

Thaddeus threw open the locks, grabbing a scalpel before opening the door. Just as surveillance had showed, the entire flat was covered in bodies. Zhang and Nirvana didn't seem too much the worse for wear, and Ed was actually upright. Both men stared at the door where another man, bearded and blond, stood almost in awe.

"Edward," the man breathed in amazement, and Ed's breathing hiked up a notch. Thaddeus stared between the two. He recognized the guy in the doorway. He was a regular who liked to come and talk politics, economics, and just have a good cup of something hot to drink. His name was Owen Heme, or at least Thaddeus thought that was his name. People were always making up fake names.

"You... You..." Ed said, his voice shaking before he burst out in anger, "YOU BASTARD!" Thaddeus' eyes widened at the sudden, angry accusation. The man froze in the door way, as if something held him there. Edward walked forwards, trying to fight his way through the bodies.

"You... you always end up surviving. It's always you! I don't know why or how, but when everyone else dies... when everyone else goes... when there's no one left... YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE THERE! WHY? WHY YOU, AND NOT WINRY OR AL OR ROY OR HAWKEYE? HUH! _TELL ME!_" The two stood there, Ed leaning forward as he yelled, the other man as still as a statue.

"Why is it always you...? Why is it always you...?" Ed asked quietly, his voice pitifully sad and bitter. "You're always the only one left out of everything, and I hate it... I... I hate it because... because it should've been someone else. It should've been someone else instead..." Finally, Ed was standing right in front of the man, and now that they were standing one in front of the other, Thaddeus could see a resemblance in the both of them, the way they stood, their hair, both their frames strong and stout. The man touched Ed experimentally, brushing off a tear from his face.

"It's you. It... it really is you. I don't believe this, how... how did you... Edward. Oh my God, Ed." Suddenly, the older man embraced the younger, and the latter offered no resistance.

"You're alive. Dear God, you're alive," Hohenheim sobbed, burying his face into his son's hair, his shoulders shaking as he cried.

* * *

They all sat in the kitchen. The bodies had been dumped down several large sewage pipes, and they continually heard the sounds of screams as people were continually tested. Houses that had already been searched were marked with a small, electronic square. Hohenheim had frisked the bodies of the dead Artificial Soldiers, not deterred by their creepy, corpse-white skin or their bizarre, skeletal features, lack of lips, or lidless eyes. The other inhabitants of Thaddeus' apartment, however, felt otherwise and left the frisking to the golden-haired man.

"How did you survive? I mean, the Promised Day," Zhang asked curiously. Hohenheim sipped a mug of synthetic coffee, making a grimace at the bitter, chemical taste. He stared into his mug, reflecting to himself. All of them waited patiently for several moments... until Hohenheim let out a soft snore.

"He's asleep!" Ed grumbled angrily, walking around the table and shoving his father awake. Hohenheim sat up, startled. His glasses were askew and the lines on his face seemed deeper as he repositioned himself in his chair.

"Hm, what was the question? Ah! Promised Day, yes, uh... well, I'm a bit hardier than most humans, obviously. I didn't think I'd last this long, honestly. I'm even going a bit gray, see!" He held out a piece of gray hair, then pointed to his temple were streaks of white and gray were pervading the soft yellow. He ruffled his unkempt, cropped short hair.

"I was caught in the city whenever it started, but the souls already within me were absorbed. There must've been some sort of backfire. No one transmutation is ever 100% efficient, and some of them must've stayed or else I wouldn't have lived this long," Hohenheim said wearily. He seemed to shrink at this phrase, and Ed looked away as he thought of how it must've felt to be the only survivor in a city of millions.

And the fact that he had done it more than once.

"Why are you here?" Nirvana asked, and Hohenheim scratched the back of his head. He gave a guilty glance to Thaddeus, and Thaddeus rolled his eyes.

"I, uh, come over quite a bit because I keep losing jobs. And I just like a good cup of coffee with good company to boot. Not to mention I like a nice soft bed, a roof over my head, a doctor nearby..." Ed stared at the ceiling in mortification.

_He's still a mooch. I should've guessed. _

"Now, a better question would be, Edward, how did _you _get here?" Hohenheim said seriously, staring at his son. The blond alchemist scuffed the tile with his boot, and he mumbled, "I don't know. I can't remember." Hohenheim frowned.

"Can't remember? Or don't want to?" Ed's head jerked up to glare at him.

"I'd remember it if I could, trust me. The last thing I want to do is be stuck here," Ed stated vehemently. Several faces showed a variety of different expressions, ranging from shock to slight offense to incredulity. Ed glanced around the room, tense with silence.

"...Oh come on. You're all sharp people. I don't belong here," Ed stated. Alice raised her hand like a kid in class, and Ed crossed his arms and gave her a look.

"What does sharp mean?" Alice asked, slightly embarrassed as she toyed with her purple hair.

"It means smart," Ed said, deflating. That kind of... proved his point and took the wind right out of his sails. Alice nodded, and Ed continued.

"The point is... _I need out of here._ You guys need out of the City. I'm probably going to do better finding a way back to my time if we all get out to Oasis," Edward stated. That was their goal after all, right? Get out of the City. Get to Oasis. Try and find a way to fix all of this-

"Wait... what's this about time?" Thaddeus asked, and everyone stared at him. They realized that they had neglected to tell Thaddeus anything at all of who Ed actually was and what he was doing here. Nirvana stood up, sighing.

"I'll tell him. Come here, Thad, this is going to take you a while..." As Nirvana led Thaddeus away, explaining in a low tone of voice, Hohenheim asked, "Do you have any theories? Anything at all that might tell you what happened?" Ed frowned, and he scratched the back of his head. He sighed, looking to Alice and Zhang.

"Did Mustang ever tell you guys anything?" Ed asked. Alice and Zhang looked at each other with slight chagrin. Alice shrugged, and Zhang only said, "I remember something about alphysics. Nirvana would know more than I would. It has to do with time flow, the fourth dimension, crap like that." Ed groaned. He knew nothing about alphysics, so he couldn't even help himself in that regard. Hohenheim suddenly looked reflective again, though this time he was staring at the pattern of the fake wood on the table. He said, "There is a library under the city, beneath the very center. There are dozens like it, and they hold all sorts of things. Some are restricted access, others are 'open to the public_' _but only a certain kind of public, and then everything else is propaganda. I think, and I may be wrong, but I think there are several different documents on alphysics that Alphonse wrote before he died that were stolen from Oasis Prime before it was ransacked back in the 1980s."

"Alphonse?" Ed asked, his voice slightly breathy as he realized that his father must've been alive while Alphonse had survived. "You saw Alphonse?" Hohenheim's smile was brief and tinged with sadness. He nodded reverently.

"Your mother raised you both so well. When he became an adult, it was like there was nothing that could stop him. I only stayed a brief time. He was a brilliant alchemist and developing alphysics as well. I didn't know he would prosper as much as he had. He wrote many dissertations and essays on the uses and practices of alchemy and notes, even entire books, on alphysics. He lived in Oasis Prime while it still stood. I believe those are the ruins about three hours away from the original Oasis compound, am I correct?" Hohenheim asked, and Alice nodded.

"Wait a minute... So does this make you my great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great-"

_"We get the idea, Alice."_

"...greatgreatgrandfather?" Hohenheim laughed.

"You're an Elric?" he asked raucously, and Alice nodded vigorously. Hohenheim held out his arms, and Alice smiled as she hugged him.

"Well, yes, I guess that would. You're a direct descendant?" Alice scrunched her face in thought.

"Uh..."

"Don't worry about it. You're family. And if there's anything we Elrics care about, it's family. Right Ed?" Edward, who'd been a little bit apart from the goings on, nodded warily. Family... their family had been dysfunctional after Mom had died, but she'd been the lynchpin between the brothers and their father. Now, it seemed the entire Elric brood might be a little more... close-knit over the centuries.

"You were saying about the books?" Ed asked, trying to keep his father on track. Hohenheim rubbed his chin in thought, letting go of Alice, who grabbed Zhang and hauled him over to the pile of textbooks waiting to be scanned.

"What? We just finished with an invasion of soldiers and you want to scan textbooks?"

"Start runnin', Hamster!"

Ed rolled his eyes at the proceedings while Hohenheim chuckled. "Those two... lively, aren't they? Well, several of the texts, I believe, survived the ransacking of Oasis Prime. Some of them are probably with the original Oasis group in their library. A good portion, however, is also in the annals of the Founder's Library underneath the Axis Point of the city. It's a monument in the exact geographical center of the city, and it's one of the few known circle points. It's the center of the main alchemical circle in the city. To get into the Library takes some real string-pulling, but it can be done. You'd best be checking Oasis' library first, though. It would do no good to waste all that effort on a single Library when none of the books help you when there's a perfectly good resource that hardly takes more than lifting a finger."

"You've been to Oasis?" Ed asked, and Hohenheim smiled with a trickster edge.

"I built it, Ed. I helped design it, create its fortifications. I know every single inch of that place down to the last cranny. Still, they're always adding to it, so there may be a few portions I don't know about by now," Hohenheim said, adding the last part with a bit of thought. He shrugged.

"Anyhow, when you get back, do check the libraries. I can help, if you don't know where to start looking," Hohenheim said, and Ed looked at him aghast.

"You're coming with us...?" The man smiled, and he said, "You didn't think I'd just leave you, did you?" Ed's expression caused Hohenheim's to sober, and he stated, "Edward, you are the last remaining direct descendant I have. I have been cut off from the Elric family for nearly a hundred years. The last one I spoke to was technically my fifteenth cousin by your mother's great great great cousin Charles. I'm not going to let you out of my sight until I'm absolutely positive you're safe."

Ed laughed sardonically. "Does that mean you'll have to watch over me for the rest of my life? You know how well 'safe' does for me." Hohenheim stopped... and then he shrugged with a slight twitch of the lips that might've been a smile.

"Keep runnin'! We ain't done yet!"

"H-hey!...I thought you... were the... slave, not the... slave... driver! Slow down... can't run that... fast!..."

* * *

**A/N:** I know, I know, you all want to tar, feather, and quarter me. I've been so slow with updating lately that it's honestly very sad. However, I do want to get in some brownie points with you guys, seeing as you've been so good as to keep reading even without the updates. Can you believe this site got 750 some hits in the course of a month? That's fantastic!

Anyhow, I want to thank my reviewers since the last update, those being Dashita Tichou, Saphire White Wolf, Red Zinnia, and MKar14. I'd like to also thank the people who favorited the story, being... uh, well, the last four people listed (Ha, you guys are overachievers) and two newcomers, rainstripe and Killerspoon13. And then we also have our fabulous subscribers, lentos-hunger, rainstripe, Saphire White Wolf, Hylian Medli, RedZinnia, and MKar14.

Also, I owe an apology to one of my readers. I'm very sorry, Saphire, that I didn't put your name in the list. I might've accidentally skimmed over it or I wrote it wrong. Still, you're recognized here! Hopefully, that'll make up for my mistake. So, so, so sorry. -bows down- Forgive me this iniquity of mine! It is dishonor on my family! -Asian genes are beginning to kick in-

Feel free to skip this next part. It's not really important.

Hopefully, I'll have a more definitive plot point by the next update. Remember, review, subscribe, favorite! Tell me what ya want more and less of, or else I'll never know. Don't forget to also make it well-rounded (though a praise review is completely fine). If you want a good example of a well-rounded review, go to my story Chasing After The Wind and then click the reviews. The ones by Ella Unlimited are absolutely fantastic. Keep in mind, they don't have to be that long- a review need only be her first two sections. The quotes are unnecessary but are nice to have (because I'm a little selfish = w=;).

Happy reading and God bless!


	18. Jacked

**J A C K E D**

The metro was strangely quiet, even at this time in the morning. Of course, it was the Underground, and the Underground was always quiet. People played quietly on their Widgets, and they scrolled through the latest news on the immigrant scandals and other such things, not really paying attention. Ed watched them all with a very careful eye, wondering where their next threat was coming from. He fiddled with the tags around his neck, a pair of identical ones dangling from Nirvana's neck identifying that both Ed and Al were her slaves and permissible to stand next to her without retribution. They stopped at what seemed like the millionth docking port along the line, and he groaned out loud. Several people glared at Nirvana and Ed, and she stepped on his foot discreetly.

"Ouch! The hell was that for...?" Ed asked, oblivious to the murderous stares he was receiving. Nirvana only gave him a harsh look, and Ed quickly averted his eyes to the floor. He scuffed the yellow, fluorescent line denoting where slaves were to stand in relation to their owners, and he instantly felt downgraded as he continued to stare at the little yellow boundary. Suddenly, he was aware that someone was tugging on his arm, and he looked down at a small girl watching him with big eyes. He smiled at her and waved, but the mother suddenly came by and snatched the child away.

"Honey, what have I told you about walking up to slaves? You've got to ask their owners first. It's not polite otherwise," the mother chastised, and Ed felt his eye twitch in annoyance. These days, just about everyone treated him either as a pet or as an object. It was getting old. He glared at the woman as she walked back to her seat with her young girl, who complained about never getting to talk to slaves.

"Get used to it. That's just how slaves are treated. It helps, though, because it means people don't look at you - as long as you act like one," Nirvana stated. Ed looked at her with a rather peeved glance.

"How is everyone able to tell I'm a slave? It's not like I have it stamped on my face or something," Ed stated under his breath, attempting discretion and failing slightly. People stared, and Alice elbowed him in the back. He stumbled forwards, and he muttered, "Quit hitting me! Damn, what is with you women?" This was just disproportionate. All he did was say something, and he gets a stomp to the foot or an elbow to the ribs.

"Look, that tracker ink you have in your system? It has a specific code for Widget eye pieces. They can see the code, and they know you're a slave just by looking at you. It's probably a cloverleaf over your head or something like that. Or the tattoo glows underneath your clothes or something like that. I wouldn't know; I never got modded for eye pieces. I don't trust people to fiddle around with my eyes," Nirvana stated, shuffling her feet to let other people pass as they headed towards a gate.

"You let _me_ play around with your innards. Can't see why I can't mess with your eyes, too. They'd look great in blue," Thaddeus murmured, and Nirvana smiled cheekily.

"Yeah, you'd know, you metrosexual animal." Ed glanced back and forth at their banter with confusion. He wasn't sure what metrosexual was, but it definitely sounded risque... Alice, as if reading Ed's mind (or better, his face), handed him her own Widget, letting him read the definition of metrosexual.

_metrosexual (meh-tro-sek-shoo-uh-l), n.: heterosexual male who is very conscious of his appearance and cultivates upscale lifestyle_.

He scratched his head, realizing that perhaps not every word that came out of Nirvana's mouth was filth. Suddenly, he felt the people around him stiffen, and he himself looked up from the little device in his hand to the people who'd just boarded the metro. Two people wearing white pantsuits boarded the train, their clothing looking very_... plastic_. Their skin was pale, extremely so, and they lacked any sort of hair. Their eyes looked dry, reminiscent of a reptile, and Ed immediately felt a sensation like a ghost passing him by as they made their way to some seats at the back of the train. The train had fallen into a hush. It was as if the very air had been sucked out of the car.

"Who are they?" Ed dared to ask as whispers began to circulate after a few moments. Nirvana was staring at the white suited individuals with a look Ed had not ever seen on her face before: blatant fear and anxiety. Even when tortured with a phobia, she had not looked this ready to bolt. Thaddeus gripped her arm hard enough to turn the skin underneath his fingers white, and she shook him off.

"They're spinejackers," she stated with enough venom to kill a full grown elephant, if they'd not been extinct. "Scum of the earth, lapdogs of the Homunculi, and threat to every free alchemist, or human for that matter, on the planet." Ed looked at her with a surprised look. He'd seen some pretty weird people in the past couple of days, from extreme bodmods to splicers, people who'd had their body grafted with animal appendages and skins. These people looked like extreme bodmods of a different sort.

"What makes them so dangerous? They look like any other weirdo on the street these days," Ed stated quietly. The lights in the metro flashed across his skin as they passed by different stops and catacomb-like sections of the Underground between the sections of the city. As Nirvana stared at him, it gave him a gritty, hard-worn look that aged him by years. She looked off, out the windows. Alice pressed closer to Thaddeus and Hohenheim, who looked slightly uncomfortable as he turned his back to the white-skinned, sterile looking people at the back of the car.

"They're the ones who test people to see if they're alchemists or not. I think your dad might've killed three or four when we were raided," Nirvana muttered. "They're volunteers. They put them in surgery tanks, redo their entire body infrastructure by replacing bone with aerospace material, give them eye grafts, different appendages, the works. And then they go out and do the dirty work of the Homunculi."

"Spinejackers have surgical tubes in their fingers. They stab the spinal cord of suspects, draw in their spinal fluid, usually cracking the vertebrae and damaging the spinal cord, and then they test it on site with special indicator chips set in their hands," Thaddeus explained clinically. "They make it very easy to detain alchemists that have been discovered, because after a spinejacker's gotten to your backbone, you're not going to be moving for a very long time." Ed shivered as he imagined cold hands searching for his spine, literally stabbing him in the back. He stared at the spinejackers with a look akin to horror and fascination.

"Ed, don't look," Hohenheim stated seriously, though his voice was completely deadpan. "Staring is impolite." Ed averted his eyes immediately, sucking a breath through his nose as he noticed that when he'd turned to look away one of the spinejackers had looked right into his eyes for a split second. It was like someone had dumped ice cold water down his shirt. He swallowed, sweat bathing the small of his back as he tried to make himself look inconspicuous.

After that, the ride seemed to take forever. The stops passed by in slow motion, the lights flashing across the passengers like molasses slipping over glass. Finally, they reached their stop. They were at the edge of the city, the very outskirts along the upper edge called The Ridge. A cool, electronic voice stated in soothing tones that they would have to get off the train in order to switch to a different metro line. People filed out, and Nirvana nodded her head towards the door. Thaddeus quietly helped Ed and Zhang through the crowd as Hohenheim put a hand on Alice's shoulder and steered her out among the flood of people.

And, following them, the spinejackers got off as well. Ed felt his mouth go dry as he realized that they were behind him, so close he could hear their wet breathing in his ear. He tried to act normal, as if nothing was the matter, but he was finding that difficult when every single instinct shouted for him to fight or flee. Thaddeus' hand was a metal claw in his shoulder, and Ed could understand why the tall medic was suddenly so nervous. Out of the corner of his eye, he could glimpse their clean whiteness, and he suppressed a shiver. Absolutely nothing should be that pristine in grimy surroundings like these.

As they walked with the flow of people, Nirvana scanned the crowds. Most of the people here were pad loaders, the equivalent of a 1900s dock worker with twice the pay and three times the risk of injury. A lot of them were missing limbs, or had had them replaced with artificial ones. They worked with extremely heavy cargo and machinery, the type that usually would crush a building flat if it was ever dropped on top of it. Every now and again an arm or two would get stuck underneath, and it'd have to come off in order for the worker to survive. That was fine with them. They could always just go and get a different arm. The job, on the other hand, was a different matter.

The flow of workers jostled the two slaves and their four compatriots as they attempted to move towards the exit nearest to the loading bay streets where massive cargo planes and dirigibles moved colossal amounts of materials. They wouldn't be missed there. Like water flowing around an island, the workers instinctually circumvented the spinejackers that seemed to be trailing Ed's group.

"They're freaking me out," Ed muttered with a hint of anxiety, and Hohenheim shoved him forwards as Ed glanced back to stare at the ghostly pale pair following them.

"You're going to start attracting attention. Goodness gracious, I've got to teach you how to be a slave, or else you'll make all the same mistakes I did," Hohenheim muttered under his breath, and Ed sneered. Sheesh, he had such great faith in him.

"If you're so smart, then what should I do, huh? Wimper and bow and feed my master grapes off the vine or something?" Ed remarked drily, and Hohenheim rolled his eyes playfully, though his body language spoke volumes as, no doubt, that instinct to flee continued to riddle him with unease.

"Not exactly, but at least try to keep your eyes to the ground. Slaves don't look people in the eye. It's not their place," Hohenheim said, slightly distracted as he tried to keep an eye on Nirvana while simultaneously leading Alice and Ed through the crowd. As they rounded a corner, Hohenheim muttered, "Oh boy." Ed looked up at his father with a look of puzzlement, but then he realized he had no idea where Nirvana was.

"Shit. We lost her, didn't we?" Ed sighed with resignation. Thaddeus, right behind him, growled under his breath, "Get used to it. You either eat her dust or get lost in it. You can't ever get ahead."

Nirvana, meanwhile, happened a lot farther in front. She checked her cheap, knock off Widget, finding the 'Locate Friends' application, and she cursed under her breath as she realized that she'd actually left them behind at the hallway junctions. They were close to the surface, now. It would be all too easy to get lost. In the Underground, it would've been easier to find them, at the least - they stood out like an orange neon sign in the dark. Up on the surface, Ed and Al would blend in with all the other slaves swarming the upper portion of the city, lost in a sea of indigo and brown tunics.

She had reached one of the holo-frame ads when suddenly she felt someone at her back, and she realized that she'd left Thaddeus's apartment without a weapon as something hard, cold, and sharp dug itself into her back.

"Keep walking," a gruff voice commanded from behind her, and her eyes widened with recognition. The expression changed to one of dull disappointment.

"Damn it, why did I have to stay in Patron so long? I made too many freaking enemies," she muttered to herself, and the man behind her chuckled. He had one eye, a long scar down his face, and a ponytail. His clothes were the loose, urban garb of a pad loader, all pockets and movement. Despite his bulk, he was agile as he avoided touching people in the crowd.

"Got that right, you screwy bolt. You remember Kade, right? The one that Don was backing before you went and gave him a case of dead?" the man behind her stated, and Nirvana swallowed as she continued walking. She quickly began categorizing exits, planning escape routes, and putting together different formulas in her head. Already, she could see the top of Hohenheim's blond head, and she knew that Ed, Al, and Zhang weren't far behind. Thaddeus was nowhere to be seen. Hopefully, he went looking for her, and he wouldn't be back soon. Her Widget rang, and she tilted her head in her captor's direction to look at him out of the corner of her eye. He nodded, pressing the knife closer to her back for emphasis. She clipped her earpiece onto the shell of her ear, and she asked, "What is it?"

"Where are you? We lost you at the turn. Ed, Al, Owen, and Zhang are all standing there like sitting ducks, and those spinejackers aren't going anywhere any time soon. Something tells me they're sniffing Ed out or something," Thaddeus's familiar voice said, irate and anxious. "If we don't leave, they're going to get a bit _too _curious, and then we'll be in trouble. Why didn't you wait for us? You always do that."

Nirvana seemed to huff at that remark, and she nonchalantly stated, "I do _not _always leave you guys behind. You people have legs - keep up. Freaking Father, you're all such whiners, I swear." The man behind her looked at the ceiling in exasperation.

"Get off the phone," he muttered, and Nirvana nodded as she began walking forwards.

"Hey, I'm almost at the junction. Just stay where you are, I'll get the clowns at the junction, and we'll meet up with you," she stated, now within sight of Hohenheim and the rest. They saw her and waved, Hohenheim slapping Ed's hand as he was about to lift his own in an attempt to teach him proper slave etiquette. Alice looked so idiotically happy to see her, and Zhang had that look on his face like he knew something everyone else didn't...

"All right, well, I'll see you then."

"Yeah, hopefully."

Nirvana hung up her Widget, and she fumbled with it as it skidded across the floor. She looked up at the man behind her pointedly as if it was his fault that she'd dropped her commie, and he gestured with a long, overly muscled finger to pick it up. She bent over to grab the phone -

Suddenly, there was a massive sound like a bass on overload as a concussive force blew everyone within a ten foot radius of Nirvana backwards. For a minute she swayed under the influence of the sound, practically blowing out her eardrums and throwing her offbalance as the fluid in her inner ear continued to swirl, but she finally managed to start running back the way she'd come. She barreled between people as the man who would've kept her captive calmly stood up and dialed something on his own Widget, quickly clicking out a message to compatriots in the station.

_Get the girl. Kade wants her. Fail, and we're wasted._

Edward, watching everything from a distance, immediately chased after Nirvana, and it took the others a few minutes to get what was going on before they took off after him. That was enough for the spinejackers as an incentive to go after them.

They ran for a full ten minutes, weaving in and out of hallways, going down little-traveled byways, hanging turns at breakneck speeds as Nirvana led them on a wild chase through the metro's complex. Finally, she reached a set of stairs after breaking through the turnstiles, Ed following at her heels, as the men in the metro scrambled to catch up. The rest of the group lagged, and there was a shout as Alice toppled to the ground, tripped by a random worker's foot. Right as he reached the stairs to the outside world, Ed turned around, hesitating as he watched Hohenheim heave the young girl back to her feet on the fly, Thaddeus a scant foot away with pale monsters like white hounds nipping at his shirt tails while they fled.

Nirvana stared down, suddenly caught between two things - freedom and the people she'd led for nearly a month and a half. She was being pursued, and it was all too possible that she could die, but at the same time, was it worth it to regain freedom at the cost of five other people's lives? Was she really that selfish. Her mind raced as seconds ticked by like a guilty clock, stealing time as she realized that her choice had to be made soon, and by soon, that meant in the next second or two as Ed ran up to meet her.

She made her decision, and as the men ran up to seize her, Ed braced behind her ready to fight, she withdrew a Sharpie marker from her coat pocket, slapped on a quick symbol to her hand, and her hand exploded into bone knives as she screamed in pain, cutting down men left and right, several of them scrambling to get away from the one-woman death machine that was holding her ground at the foot of the station. Ed watched in amazement as dismembered men shrieked, some of the ones farther away attempting to shoot her and only managing to nick or graze as she slew those unfortunate enough to get in her way. Ed soon followed suit, transforming his automail arm into a deadly blade with a single clap.

It seemed like the short battle lasted for several hours, when in reality it was a few short minutes. Suddenly, however, they realized that they had another problem. The spinejackers now had every incentive to crack open a few spines, sensing the alchemical energy wafting from a focal point that held two people, and Thaddeus, Hohenheim, Zhang, and Alice were in the way.

"Run," Nirvana breathed. Ed looked at her nervously, flickering his eyes between the spinejackers and Nirvana.

"What?"

"RUN! We can't take them!" Nirvana was about to bolt, but the sheer look of terror in the eyes of her companions stopped her for all of a second. Ed, however, had no such indecisive thoughts, and he immediately barreled straight through his array of friends into the fray with both spinejackers.

As Hohenheim made sure that all of them were accounted for, Alice watched in amazement as Ed fended off both spinejackers with a feral, almost primal fighting style that was all grace, fluidity, and deadliness. Blood already painted the ground, and she was surprised that Ed had not already slipped at this point. Realizing that they were being monitored at that moment, Alice stared at a CCTV camera with a look of epiphany. She tugged on Zhang's sleeve, and the emissary tore his eyes from the scary fight going on before him.

"What?" he asked, and Alice started to head towards a box underneath the CCTV camera. Seeing what she was getting at, Zhang headed towards it as well. She couldn't reach it, so he gave her a leg up, allowing her to link up Zhang's cheap Widget to the box. She scrolled through frantically, knowing that they were going to run out of time, muttering under her breath, "Come on, come on..." Zhang grunted, "What are you doing?"

"I'm erasing footage from about ten minutes ago up to this point and replacing it with snippets of random information from earlier in the day. They'll never know if I can get to it fast enough, and that's the problem. Damn it, this thing is a cheap piece of crap!"

"What, you think I'm going to buy a high end commie just because I'm stuck in the middle of the slums with nothing but a few chipsful of credit? No thanks! Less complaining, more working."

Meanwhile, Ed was having trouble with the spinejackers. They were like very smart, very versatile panthers with human limbs and a human intelligence. He was just barely managing to keep them off his back, their scalpel-fingers scratching the air around him. He barely dodged another scalpel-laden hand before another raked up his back. He screamed, but he retaliated with a quick backwards stomp. He managed to crush a foot beneath his heel, and the spinejacker let out a squeal that reminded him of metal on metal. He gave a roundhouse kick to the other spinejacker that was trying to take advantage of the former distraction, and it spun away somewhere.

"ED!" He just barely had enough time to look up before Hohenheim threw him a staff that seemingly had come out of nowhere. It was a retractable, metal shock prod, and Ed smiled. New toys - nothing wrong with that. He slapped the ground with one end, and Hohenheim winced.

"Easy, boy, easy. Those things aren't cheap!" Ed rolled his eyes, but he quickly got his mind back into the game as a spinejacker pounced on him.

"We're not as dumb as we look, alchemist," it hissed in his ear as they were locked in a hold with the staff crackling between them. Ed was suddenly assailed with a pain in his back as the second spinejacker dug its scalpeled fingers into his spine, shearing away metal to get to the bone and, ultimately, his spinal cord full of telltale fluid. Edward spun the spinejacker on his staff around, shocking him in the back as he did before swinging it over his shoulder and smacking the spinejacker on his vertebrae in the head. It screamed as an electrical jolt was sent through its skull, and Ed leaned heavily on the staff.

"Damn it all, can't I get some help here?" Ed asked plaintively as he knocked away the other spinejacker. They were relentless, always coming at him from different sides. They were crafty, learning how he fought in order to beat him. He wouldn't be surprised if they had computers in their heads, constantly calculating his moves and tendencies, waiting for him to slip.

And then, just like that, both of their heads seemed to simultaneously explode into a cloud of red and white. A fine spray splattered Ed's slave attire, spreading a mess of red dots all over the dark blue fabric. Ed stood there, shocked, at the bodies that lay around him. Thaddeus stood with two guns in hand, his eyes as hard as the bullets that had drilled their way into the brains of the spinejackers Ed had been fighting.

Ed hadn't wanted quite _that _much help.

"You killed them," Ed breathed, staring down at them. He felt sick to his stomach. He'd killed them with such... such _flippancy, _as if they were inhuman, like they'd never been a baby or a child or someone's daughter, mother, father, brother... Even though Ed had felt that unease, he had not been so low as to kill them. He had not wanted to kill them... he hadn't... wanted...

Hohenheim, sensing his son's impending distress, walked over to him, stepping over the corpses and enfolding Ed in his arms. Ed stood there for a moment, stiff as a board, before giving in and burying his face into his father's shoulder. His back was bleeding and hurt, and his body felt like it'd been dragged behind a car for a few hours. He wanted to go home. He just wanted to go home.

All this time, Nirvana had been watching from the sidelines, shaking as she realized that for once she'd actually stayed out of a fight, either because of cowardice or fear. She fell to her knees, cradling her mangled hand, and she retracted the blades she'd created by reversing the formula she'd scrawled on her hands. She began to hyperventilate, staring at the bodies of the spinejackers at her feet. She'd been so close to being caught. If Ed hadn't been here... if Thaddeus wasn't here... if Hohenheim or Alice or Zhang weren't here... She chose not to dwell on it, and she swallowed hard, as if she were shoving down a bitter pill. The fact was, she was still here, untouched and unchained. She couldn't be chained.

A stinging sensation suddenly zapped her at the base of her neck, and she lurched forward in pained astonishment. She stood there a moment, frozen, as Thaddeus asked Alice and Zhang if they were all right and what they were doing and Hohenheim led Ed over to sit on the stairs while the street remained empty and barren as it had been...

She collapsed, a patch of bright green stuck to her neck, microscopic needles sticking out of the patch of stiff sedative pumping soporifics into her system. Thaddeus looked over, confused, to find her on the ground when he, too, was struck by the green patch, and then Ed, Al, and Zhang were hit. Hohenheim, catching on, attempted to block the patch, but he wasn't fast enough - though his brain and eyes could keep up, his body, which was aging, could not. He, too, was hit with the soporific patch, and he felt to the ground, out cold.

Figures suddenly approached, faces almost hidden under dark hoods and bodies sheathed in the anonymous clothes of pad loaders. They took the bodies and began to cart them off, glad that for once their job was easy and thinking about how much luckier they were than the poor bastards who had to go up against two alchemists and a couple of their friends.

* * *

They were staying at a hotel very close to the loading pads. From their window, he could see airbuses and dirigibles. Kojak swallowed hard as he realized that in a little under a week, they'd be headed home, and yet they had no idea where his babies had gone. Nirvana and Alice, lost somewhere in the city with Zhang and Ed. All of them were worried, one way or another. Georgia, for Alice, who was technically a niece by law; Imal for Alice, his only family outside of the mother he knew and the mother he didn't; Guun for Zhang, a close friend as well as work partner, practically a brother; Grayson for Ed, for whom he'd grown fond of during their many talks about history; and himself for both Ed and Nirvana and Alice, all he considered his charges in a way, the children that were fatherless, homeless, or lost.

He tapped his fingers against the fake wood table in front of him, a ceramic mug of synthetic coffee slowly steaming before him. They'd managed to track Edward and Alice's tracker ink, but without the proper program, Imal could only get their general location. They were around the loading docks, they knew that much, but the radius kept moving around as Edward and Alice traveled. Kojak looked outside, watching the loaders go on and off, ships coming and leaving. He wondered idly if somewhere out there Edward and Nirvana were waiting for him. He knew that perhaps that was a bit too idealistic to think that those two thought of him as a sort of father figure - it was a habit of his he'd have to break.

Still, he'd always been so fond of children, teenagers especially. He heard the sound of a door open with a near-silent 'vwoosh' and he turned to look at the person coming in. Georgia stepped inside of the small room. They were lucky to even _get _an actual room. A lot of places, you rented a coffin to sleep in for the night. Sometimes, if you weren't careful, that coffin would become a literal box when the boxes were switched out with an empty one so that organs could be harvested unwittingly. This was more expensive, but also a whole hell of a lot safer.

"Only a couple of more days, and we can get out of this forsaken city," Georgia said, sitting down. Without the others around, her face had fallen slack, the calm and strict authority that usually held her face in a semblance of stony hardness stripped away by exhaustion and jadedness. She rubbed her face with a single, slightly wrinkled hand. Georgia was a lot older than most people thought - she was actually nearly as old as Kojak, but recent developments in genetic engineering had equipped her with a brand of DNA that lasted quite a bit longer than the average human's. Of course, that'd been a government project, and the only way people could tell was by the hands of those who'd participated. Still, it seemed that though her outsides weren't aging, on the inside she was mentally sliding down a scale determined by age, no matter the doctoring done to the DNA. No matter the physical shell, age always took its toll.

Kojak remembered fondly the day she'd come out of a tank. He'd watched with his mother, who'd been one of the minds behind the idea. They'd become good friends soon after, when Georgia was old enough to comprehend and speak. He'd only been six or seven. It seemed like such a long time ago now.

"Do you really think we're going to find them? Ed and Nirvana?" Georgia asked quietly. Her brown hair was choppy and unkempt, cut with impromptu style to look vaguely acceptable. Kojak sighed as he leaned back in his chair, the cheap non-wood creaking under his weight.

"I believe in 'em. They'll lead us to the others. And they'll get here on time. They're in our general area, right?" Kojak asked, and Georgia flipped open her Widget, activating the holograph detail mode as she scrolled to the program she wanted and tapped it with her finger. A bright map opened up on the table of the city in near-opaque blocks of buildings that seemed strangely cut off on the top, as if they'd been leveled the same height. Georgia eyed the blinking red nimbus that covered one portion of the level, pulsing right at the edge where they themselves occupied.

"We'll go looking again tomorrow," Georgia said, turning off the Widget. She looked across to Kojak. The lines in his face seemed just that much deeper, and the dark skinned looked like it was covered in a fine layer of white dust. He was ashen, gray, as he looked out the window at the arriving and departing ships. She reached a hand over to him, patting his own hand, and he turned to look at her. He smiled wearily.

"I'm tired, Georgia. Real tired," he said with a slight, mirthless chuckle. He didn't smile as he looked down into his lap. "Gettin' old, hon. Cain't barely stand up some mornin's. I'm gettin' too old for this." Georgia's eyes tightened. She couldn't help but notice that, despite the fact they were separated only by seven years, he was beginning to break down. He was an early breaker, seeing as most people didn't start to go on the downgrade until they were nearly seventy or eighty. Kojak was in his sixties.

"Thinking of retiring?" Georgia asked. Her voice cracked slightly. She knew that if he retired, she'd rarely get to see him. She was becoming a rising star as a battle tactician, and because of her upbringing, she was close to government property. Her time would be eaten up by battles and invasions and all sorts of other things. Kojak would be in an assisted living center funded by the military, which wasn't as bad as it sounded. He'd just be lonely. It wouldn't be at all like the things he'd done for the military in the past. It would be kinder than giving him a desk job, though.

"Yeah, actually, I am. I would've done it sooner, but... you know, with Charlotte..." Kojak looked down at his hands. He clasped them tightly, and Georgia turned away. Charlotte had been Kojak's wife. She'd died in a jet crash out in the Briggs range. It was a double blow - it had also been a suicide. She'd left him recording right before she'd crashed. Georgia had stood there as Kojak put his head in his hands and pleaded with her recording, which of course was an exercise in futility yet still seemed necessary.

"I thought she was stronger. But when your Baby Boy just up and gone like dust, ain't nothin' gonna fix you. Only God, and she ain't had Him with her. No, Lordie, she ain't had Him," Kojak said quietly. His eyes looked impenetrable, yet beneath settled a strange emotion that Georgia couldn't really define. It was a sort of old ache, one that he'd tried to fill by bringing in people under his wing, trying to fill that space with something else and yet not finding what he was looking for.

"'S why you care about Ed so much, huh? When you first saw him? He reminded you of Matthew," Georgia stated in a nearly inaudible voice. Kojak smiled infinitesimally. He chuckled as he stared at the ground.

"Yeeeaaah. Ed, he's a spitfire. Ain't one to just lay down and die. Ain't one to let people order him around, neither. He's just... Lord, he's like Matthew. Headstrong and gutsy," Kojak said. His nostalgic look lowered into one of blatant worry. " 'At's why I worry 'bout him so much. Why I worry 'bout Nirvana. They's just so reckless sometimes. Makes me wonder how they stay alive. Maybe they got the Devil's luck with 'em, or something like that. Cuz poor Matthew didn't."

Georgia still wondered how Kojak could be so superstitious as to believe in a 'God'. If there was one, he'd taken everything away from him - his wife, his son, his health, even his friends. Slowly over the years it was as if everything Kojak had ever possessed just seemed to fade away. Yet, he was still waiting for the good things to come. She guessed that Kojak was trying to emulate that one man in the book he was always reading, Job, the one whose entire life was stripped down to nothing. Still, life wasn't fairy tales and glitter and happy endings. Life sucked, and then you died.

"You miss him," Georgia stated. She didn't even have to ask. Kojak's son had looked just like his daddy with his mother's stubborn and persistent attitude. No wonder Kojak was good at dealing with stubborn people - that was his entire family. The black man looked over at Georgia. He didn't say anything.

They only stared at each other, communicating on that way only the best of friends could, with a simple glance that shouted a thousand words, never having to ever open their mouths and say those things that would tear them apart if ever they were released from their lips. They just sat there with each other, watching the ships come and go and wondering when, oh when, were they going to leave this place full of the living people who were already dead and the dead that somehow were still living.

* * *

**A/N**: Yes, I am still alive. It's taken me a while to actually come up with a chapter (as you know, I'm also writing a few other stories on the side), but here it is! I hope you guys enjoyed it, and I know there are a lot of new terms. I should probably make an appendices for them all... Any who, I would like to thank my reviewers from last chapter, rainstripe, someone nobody knows, zero, Sapphire White Wolf, and Dashita Tichou. Big thanks to my new favoriteers, Irish-scene-queen and Sophia Griffin. And then, last, but not least, my good subscribers, DeathBySugarCube, Frantic Author, and Sophia Griffin.

Go ahead and tell me what you think, what you want to see more of, and what truly interests you about this story. I always enjoy feedback. Feel free to make it as detailed as you want, as I don't care how small the detail is, go ahead and throw it out there. It might just make my day.

Happy reading and God bless!

-Dr. Yok


	19. 1915: O, Brother, Where Art Thou?

And now for something else...

* * *

A Day Of Reckoning

**Three months after the failed coup d'etat on the Amestrian government**  
**South of the Aerugo-Amestris border**  
**10:55 PM Amestris Standard Time**

His dark hair fluttered silently as he stood on a balcony overlooking a lake. The moon glinted off its surface, a mirage of white light that flickered across the water. So quickly, it would change shape and intensity as the waves caressed the light, and he watched it for a few moments before turning to look over his shoulder. He'd heard a noise, a soft noise that normal people wouldn't catch. Of course, he was a paranoid soldier - he was always hearing things, though about seventy percent of the time there really happened to be something there. This time, though, he knew this sound. It was the soft sound of someone unloading a magazine clip from a handgun.

"Hawkeye, I wasn't aware that you got up this late at night," Mustang stated. The blonde stepped out of the shadows, her hair drifting around her shoulders in the Aerugo breeze. They'd hidden out very close to the border after the coup. It was one of the few places that might be safe from the prying eyes of the Amestrian government and their guns. As such, they'd decided to dress as civilians, adopting some of the styles of the area. Roy was disappointed to learn that the myths he kept hearing about the famous Aerugonese skirts were just that, myths. They were the same length, if not longer, as Amestrian skirts. Still, he couldn't help but notice that the civilian clothes gave Hawkeye a much more approachable air than her military blues.

"Enemies usually like to stay awake at night. I like to be prepared," she quipped drily in a completely deadpan manner. Roy smiled to himself, leaning on the rail of the balcony. His serene facial expression began to regress into one of deep worry and thought as he reviewed the statistics of the coup. How many men did they have left? Perhaps only about half of them, but with that many they could get new recruits from the surrounding countries who'd love to see Amestris eat their lead. How many alchemists were there left? Well, Izumi was still alive, if in a fragile condition, and he was alive, and Al was still alive, and Hohenheim...

_But still no Edward._

They'd looked for days after the battle, sending little-known soldiers into the cities and libraries to see if they could scrounge up the young alchemist. Al had said he'd been separated from his brother at one point in the battle after being rushed by a bunch of artificial soldiers. The man under the ground, Father, had not been pleased at all to learn that they were missing an alchemist. Mustang felt a twinge at that point, some sort of feeling that things were not going the way they were supposed to, even with Father's plan. There was something... missing. He'd reached up and touched his cheek, directly underneath his eye, and he wondered what it was that had him so spooked. As he thought about it, it was as if for a moment there'd been two of him, and they'd parted ways.

"Still thinking about him?" Hawkeye watched him with her keen, brown eyes. He turned back to glance at her, but he was captivated by the intensity of her stare. At that moment, he knew that she knew him from the inside out. Every nook and cranny of his mind, every single move he'd made and their motivations, every time he even _looked _at her with a glance that wasn't one of business-like interest... He tried to tear his eyes away, but it was as if she were searching him, turning over every stone and looking at the squirming, uncomfortable things underneath. Yes, he was thinking about Edward, and he was embarrassed for absolutely no reason. Perhaps he didn't want to admit that he'd grown on the kid. Maybe it was the fact that he was genuinely worried about the boy's brother, how well Al would take life without his older sibling for guidance. And part of him was scared that he was responsible for the blonde's disappearance.

"Yeah," he answered, knowing that one word told her more than enough. He finally looked away from her, out back towards the lake. His eyes traced the border that was only fifty klicks away. It was unsettling to think of how close they truly were to the enemy that was just behind that imaginary line which separated them. He felt a hand squeeze his shoulder, and with surprise on his face turned to Hawkeye. She had never before touched him so casually. Then again, they were in a more casual setting. They were no longer soldiers - only refugees and dissenters and survivors.

Her face, now, was not the usually serious deadpan expression she kept, nor the business-like, pleasant smile she reserved for visiting officials. This look was deeper, more revealing, probably more revealing than Mustang remembered ever seeing. He'd known Hawkeye for years, and she'd never looked at him like this.

_Not this worried. Not this... soft._

"I know," she stated quietly. She let go of his shoulder, and she walked back into the hotel room. Mustang felt reluctant to follow her, but he felt that perhaps he should. As he walked back through the swing doors, the white curtains billowing in the breeze, he mentally translated the sound of Hawkeye cleaning and disassembling her gun as a sign of both the need for familiarity and a way to get her mind off of things. She always cleaned and disassembled her gun when she was feeling stressed, or tired, or just plain worried. He knew what it was like to do something that made one feel at home, comfortable. Different people did it in different ways. He himself preferred to watch people or any moving object and just imagine that he was going with that thing or person, somewhere far off where he was. Since he'd been a child, he'd done that, and for some reason it gave him a sense of security to drift and daydream, be imaginative.

Hawkeye was more concrete than he was, though. She was more... stable. Perhaps that was why he chose to be around her so much. Like his adopted mother, she was his base. She was someone safe to go back to, someone who didn't change like so many others. It was another old habit - find a safe place, a safe person and stick with them. Now, though... now, as he heard the familiar noises of pieces of deadly metal being put down, rubbed down, picked back up, he was beginning to realize that Hawkeye, as stable as she seemed, perhaps was feeling turmoil herself. How had he not noticed that perhaps she, too, was dealing with the guilt of seemingly leaving a child behind to face the world by himself...?

"Hawkeye." He thought his voice sounded odd, hollow. She didn't seem to notice him. He took a deep breath, took a gamble.

"Riza." Upon hearing her first name, she turned ever so slightly. And that's when he saw it. Now, it was the other way around; Mustang's eyes captivated hers, searching them, and she was held prisoner. He could see it, clear as day, the shame that was amplified because of her gender role as a caretaker of the young and defenseless. Even though Edward was nearly full grown in mind and spirit, he was still young and reckless, a child on so many different levels, and she could see them all. Riza quickly lowered her eyes to the pieces of firearm in her lap, her hands trembling.

He'd never seen her like this. She was usually so emotionally shut, in terms of communication. She never conveyed anything more than militaristic affluence, a cool, though not chilly, demeanor, and a detached sort of care. She had her moments, though, when he saw that wall she'd built produce a chip or a crack, and he'd looked through to see such a deep, emotionally _complicated _person. There were depths to her that no one had considered beyond the stoic structure she'd created around herself like a turtle in a shell. In that moment, he'd seen something much larger than just a chip or a crack. There'd been a gaping hole, one he hadn't seen the likes of since Ishval.

"Sometimes I dream about him." Riza stared at the far wall, and Roy felt a moment of panic. There'd been this feeling of dejavu, the root of which he knew. She'd done something like it during the war. One day, she'd shot someone, a mother if he remembered correctly. She hadn't known that there'd been a baby in her arms, and when she'd fallen over, instantly dead, the baby had rolled out of her embrace into the streets. The baby was dead, too, shot with the same bullet. She'd stared at the wall for the entire night in the compound, and nothing Roy could do would snap her out of it. Finally, she was jarred by the sound of a bomb going off only fifty meters away, and she was reminded that there were people to protect and there were still others out there.

"And he's so alone. And I can't be there to help him," she stated in a soft voice. Roy wasn't sure what to do. He didn't want her to slip back into that faze, the one where she just stared at a wall. There was no bomb to detonate here, nothing to remind her that there were other people out there who still needed her. It was just them, in a hotel room. Waiting.

"Riza... there wasn't anything we could do. He'll turn up," Roy said, but he sounded more like he was trying to reassure himself than her. He reached a hand towards her, but he hesitated. What if that wasn't the right thing to do? What if that made things worse? She was already frustrated and confused. She didn't need to be even more tangled up in different emotions.

But why would that tangle up her emotions? They were just friends. _(Or so he liked to tell himself.)_

"Roy, you and I both know that at this point, it's probably a little far-fetched to start being optimistic now," she stated, and her voice cracked. Finally, she just shut her mouth. She didn't look at him, only stared at the wall. Mustang was slightly shocked to hear her call him anything other than 'Colonel' or 'Mustang' or, even, 'dumbass' on occasion. He could count on his fingers the number of times she'd called him by his given name. His eyes tightened as he realized just how conflicted she must feel, the same confusion with which he'd struggled.

How does one understand that a person is not their child, not in the least, and still feel like their parent? That they are responsible for them somehow? If Mustang had it bad, she had it worse. Finally, he reached a hand over and placed it on her shoulder, right next to the base of her neck. His thumb traced lines up and down the back of her neck, and he could feel the tension in her muscles. She was more alert than he was, and she noticed things better - it went with the job. Yet here, off the job, she was still just as focused, and he could only admire and pity her for it.

"I talked to him," she said. "I talked to him the day before... before the fight. It was late, and... I don't know, I guess we both needed someone to talk to. We just sort of sat there and started talking. That was it. He told me things, I told him things... It wasn't like how my father and I were. I'd never talked to someone like that." She leaned her head against Roy's arm, and he was surprised by the blatant show of affection and trust. She was a subtle, yet blunt, person. The way she showed love and care was different from most people's. Roy stood a bit closer, placing his other hand on the back of the chair. Her head nudged his middle, and he let her lean against him. It was about time the fool let someone carry her burdens and some of her weariness for a little while.

"They're the closest I have to children," Riza said, whispering it. She suddenly put the pieces of gun on the table, and Roy abruptly drew his hands back. She stood up, but he could see the conflict in the way she moved, the way she held herself. She headed towards the door, but Roy knew he couldn't let her go. If she went out that door... she might not come back. He grabbed her hand and stated, "Wait." Riza turned back to him in surprise, and in only a moment Roy realized his conjecture was wrong. He'd thought that, perhaps, she had wanted to go and look for him. The one they both were confused on what parts of him were their child and what parts of him were their equal. He'd been afraid, for a moment, of losing her to a place that was dangerous, where he knew that if he were there he'd only endanger her further. Instead, what he saw was a woman who didn't want her commander and friend to see her cry.

They stared at each other for a moment, one of them with tears in her eyes and the other one feeling like seeing her cry was about to make him cry, too. He felt something wet slide down his face as he realized how much he wanted to storm into battered Central City and tear the place apart to find something, _anything at all _of Ed's. Because they'd found nothing. There was no sign that he'd even been at the battle. There was no sign that he was either dead or alive. Seeing Alphonse try to stay strong, watching Winry fight tears, trying to ignore Granny Pinako's stony-faced resolve - he wished he could cure it, to make things better again. The flame that had kept all of them together had gone out. There was this massive, yawning hole where he'd been. All big, bright stars, when they died or disappeared, left a black hole.

"They're the closest I've got, too," Roy said, taking a deep breath. He was still holding her wrist, and Hawkeye peeled his fingers away from the skin. She held his hand, staring at the light burn marks that hovered underneath the skin. Years of practice and accidents had given him burns all over his hands, but a lot of the time they were covered by gloves. She reached out a hand and swiped off a tear from his face.

"So we're going to keep looking," Roy whispered. He sniffed, biting his lip. He was never one to allow his emotions to get the better of him. It was very... undisciplined.

Suddenly, they heard the door creak open, and they let go of each other, not realizing that at some point Roy had grabbed Riza's hand, and she'd hung on. They both turned to the strip of light growing on the floor as the door was eased back. Alphonse stared in with big, gold eyes, a softer kind that was different from his brother's cynical, battered pair. They had forgotten that, like Ed, there were parts of Alphonse that were both adult and child. And he, more than anyone else, was hurting. Behind him, Black Hayate trailed with a wagging tail and a delighted look on his canine face. He trotted in past the teenaged alchemist to sniff around Riza's ankles and shove his nose promptly in Roy's crotch for a good sniff before being given a harsh look from his mistress. He obediently came at her beck, sitting in front of her feet while looking up at her with a puzzled look. He could tell something was wrong.

"Have a good walk, Al?" Roy asked. They were posing as a family, despite the fact that none of them looked alike. Several more of their members were stationed through out the little town in different hotels under false names and passports. They had decided to take extra precautions in case Aerugo suddenly cleared up its disputes with Amestris a little _too _quickly.

"Yeah. Black Hayate wouldn't stop sniffing other dogs," Alphonse said, giving a smile that didn't reach his eyes. He was still getting used to his body, moving stiffly and awkwardly in his own skin. It'd taken days, but they'd finally gotten him to a healthy weight, though he'd have to retrain himself to fight in his new body again. How awful it must be, to move from one body to the next in only the space of a few years. Right when one thinks they're comfortable in the skin they occupy, they're thrown into a new body. Riza lifted an eyebrow at Hayate who thwump-thwump-thwumped his tail against the floorboards with a goofy grin. She scratched behind his ears.

It was silent for a few moments, and Roy could tell that Al was about to say something - they just didn't know what. Finally, Al lowered his head, and he stared at the floor as he muttered, "They found something. I went to the office, and there was... was a message for us." Roy's eyes widened. They hadn't heard news in over a week. Roy stepped forwards, knowing that the news couldn't be good. Al dug around in his pocket, fumbling with his thin fingers for the slip of paper the message was written on.

He finally pulled it out, and he read it in a deadpan voice, " 'We found a room to shoot the movie, perfect place for your man, but it needs lots of cleaning and it's already been used for a gore-fest. We thought we'd find your leading man there, but he didn't meet us. Still, there were too many deadweight extras there to find him anyways. We'll answer back when we can.'" It took Roy a moment to realize that his cover was that of a director on vacation with his wife, son, and dog. In his mind, he broke down the message as Al looked at him with sad, haunted eyes.

_We found a room to shoot the movie, perfect place for your man. _We found a place where Ed most likely would've been during the fighting.

_But it needs lots of cleaning and it's already been used for a gore-fest. _There's been a lot of blood.

_We thought we'd find your leading man there, but he didn't meet us. _No sign of Edward.

_Still, there were too many deadweight extras there to find him anyways. _Too many bodies to tell who's who.

_We'll answer back when we can. _We'll keep you posted.

Riza read over his shoulder, and she blanched. Roy looked up at Alphonse, wondering if he'd managed to figure out what they were talking about. A single glance into his face told him all he needed to know.

"I don't think we have to keep looking," Al said with a sad, shaky smile. "I don't think... we'll find him."

"Al," Roy breathed. He knew someone was eventually going to say that it was hopeless to continue looking for him, but he had never expected those words to come out of Alphonse's mouth. Still, seeing Al stand up tall as he could manage with his thin, weak frame, his face weary and knowing, Roy knew he meant what he said.

"You know he would've left something. Anything. Anything to tell us he was still around. Even if it was just a random statue, a gargoyle, some sort of prank. He wouldn't just _stay underground._ Brother was never good at that," Alphonse stated, his voice cracking at the final sentence. "Colonel... he's not coming back." A tear spilled out of Al's eye, and it landed on the ground. Black Hayate looked torn between his master and his new friend, looking up at Riza with an imploring look. Riza gestured, and Hayate walked over to Al, nuzzling his hand. Al tried to smile, brushing his fingers over the dog's ears.

"We can't just... just stop. What if he's still -?"

"Roy." Mustang turned towards Riza. Her words had been blunt, and he knew that she didn't want him to press the subject further. He deflated, looking between Riza and Alphonse. Riza was on the verge of tears herself, but with Alphonse present she was holding back stoically. Alphonse was already wiping his own cheeks, trying hard not to seem mopey or unnecessarily emotional. Roy found himself caught. Was it true? Should they answer back to call off the search? It'd been three months with no signs other than this new development, a bloody room that was piled high with bodies so decimated it was impossible to tell what person was who.

"What makes you think we should stop?" Roy asked, shocked. Al dug around in his pocket slowly, finally withdrawing another paper.

"This one... this one came in right as I walked in," Al whispered.

_Your leading man left stuff behind. He's not exactly very clean. Some buttons, a glove, a few of his art projects. He must've been to that room we were talking about earlier, in Studio Underground. It looks like he might've checked out of town and hit the road, though. His dressing room's sacked of everything. Oh well, better luck looking for your next one. - James Cordell. _

James Cordell was Fuery's alias. He himself must've been there when they'd found the evidence. Roy felt a weight settle at the bottom of his stomach as he sat down in a chair slowly. They'd found... found pieces of evidence. They'd found things that were most definitely Ed's.

He really was gone. He wasn't missing. He wasn't lost. He wasn't in hiding.

There was no more Ed.

Riza had crossed the room after reading the message in Roy's hand, and she hugged Alphonse, another rare sign of blatant affection. Alphonse at first stiffened, but after realizing how starved he'd been of human contact, _any _human contact, he grabbed hold of her with all he had. It was as if he needed an anchor, something to keep him here. He buried his face in her shoulder, shaking as he felt sobs begin wracking him. Riza rubbed his back as they stood at the door, with Roy in shock in his chair. Riza looked at Roy, and she asked, "What do you want to do, Colonel?" That was the first time that night she'd called him by his rank, and he knew she was being serious.

He opened his mouth, but no words left. Finally, he took a deep, shaking breath.

"I'll message them. We'll call it off. Edward... Ed's gone."

* * *

**Three months after the failed coup on the Amestrian government  
Central City, an alley way  
12:34 PM Amestris Standard Time  
**

"Are you serious?" Fuery asked, incredulous. He ruffled his black hair, frowning with concern.

"Yeah. He said that we need to stop looking for the chief. Said it was too dangerous for us to stay here while Central's on high alert. He wants us to abandon the search so we can start on the Underground," Heymans said, gruffly brushing off a piece of nonexistent lint from his jacket sleeve. Fuery leaned against a wall in astonishment. They wanted to _abandon _their best alchemist. He could be anywhere in the city! What happens if they left, and he was still here, alone with no allies?

"B-but we've got to keep looking for him! I mean, he's one of the best, and there's no way he -"

"He did." The both of them looked down the alley, watching as Falman walked towards them. He had a growth of beard on his face, his trench coat looking drearily drab. He looked sad, a little worn. The coup's failure had taken a toll on all of them. Heymans and Kain looked at Vato with expressions ranging from skepticism to interest.

"Were you there? When they found it?" Heymans asked. His lips pressed into a white line. He hated to think of what the kid's final moments must've been like. He'd heard things. Lots of things.

"Yeah. I found the pictures, at the least. The military police found the underground room, and I managed to get a look at the pictures," Falman stated, his dark eyes serious. He looked away from them.

"I need a couple of shots after that. Damn, they were disgusting. Bodies everywhere. A circle on the floor, bigger than anything I've ever seen. A lot of the guys... a lot of them were the artificial demons. Still, they took pictures of a couple of items that stood out, like one of Ed's buttons, one of his gloves, a few spikes in the ground that didn't belong. It had Fullmetal all over it. Some of the other guys think that he'd killed so many, they all piled up and suffocated him," Falman stated with morbid humor. He scuffed his shoe.

"So... so that's really it? What about Gordo? And Farrowman? We're calling off on them, too?" Breda asked curiously. Falman looked up, recognizing the names as other comrades in different divisions, the first being a good friend of Breda's especially who'd gone missing in a tunnel collapse. Falman shrugged.

"All I know is, Fullmetal's gone. There's no way he could've survived whatever killed all those artificial soldiers. There's just no way. They were... they covered the _floor._ Some of them were even our guys, wearing Briggs uniforms. It must've been a massacre," Falman said. They were quiet for a moment, letting the realization sink in. There would be no more ranting. There would be no more comical complaints about cafeteria food, milk, or height. There would be no more chasing him around and looking after him. There would be no more watching him grow up and no more giving advice to a confused teenager to old for his skin and bones.

There would be no more birthdays, no more jokes. There wasn't going to be a graduation, or a farewell party, or an invitation to a wedding.

His life had ended. And it just _didn't seem to register. _

With this heavy realization in mind, as they thought of all the others that were gone, of all the others that would never get to have another birthday or a wedding or a mother's touch or a helping hand, they went their separate ways to carry on the news.

It was time to stop looking.

* * *

**Year 2265, April 4 (four days before the Patron City infiltration)  
Oasis Bunker  
12:33 PM Patron City Standard Time**

Ed's eyes flashed open, feeling something resonant within him with a strange feeling of emptiness. He wasn't sure what exactly had woken him up. He knew it was nothing he could truly quantify, so far as science went. He wasn't hurting, other than the usual soreness his automail generally gave him on days when the air was cold. He hadn't dreamed anything. There were no noises.

Still, he couldn't help but feel like he was missing something, and he put a hand over his sternum, feeling the thrum of his own heart push back against his flesh hand. He took a deep breath.

For all of a minute, right as he'd woken up, he'd felt as if something had let go of him. He didn't feel free so much as lost. Almost like betrayal, but an unbeknownst betrayal, the type that was entire intentional for the best reasons. Still, betrayal was betrayal, but he didn't know who had betrayed him or what that betrayal even was. He felt untethered, like a ship tossed on a sea.

And suddenly, he felt lonely.

He drew his knees up to his chest, resting his knees on top of them. He'd been subdued these last few days, having felt restless and out of sorts. Something had been bothering him, and now it had reached its apex.

Perhaps tomorrow, he'd go to the gym, work off some of the stress. It was probably something subconscious that had to do with teaching those excuses for alchemists how to do a dehydration reaction correctly to create a polymer. God, how many of them had fallen off the ceiling because their polymer hadn't been strong enough? There was a reason he hadn't let them glue him to the wall.

Maybe it was just stress. Yeah, just stress. Just... stress...

With this mantra in mind, he went back to sleep.

* * *

**A/N**: Wow, there are a good amount of reviews this time around. Big thanks to Frantic Author, rainstripe, Sophia Griffin, Thieving Alchemist, and Hikari Hellion, Dashita Tichou. However, I _would _like to make a complaint on behalf of the anonymous Zero: as much as I appreciate getting reviews at all, I _don't _very much enjoy receiving one-word reviews. That honestly doesn't tell me A) how to be a better writer, B) what you liked, or C) what you didn't like. At least be in depth about how _much _you liked it. I appreciate the fact you reviewed, but I'd also like you to be a little bit more specific about it. Message me if you don't want to put it into a review for the public - I already have someone doing that for another one of my stories. Please keep this in mind when writing a review. Thank you.

To the people who favorite the story, big thanks to Artemex, Thieving Alchemist, FullMetalWizardNerd7, and FMAlcheholic. Your unspoken input and love is appreciated greatly.

And finally, to those who subscribe, lots of love to several familiar names, Artemex, FullMetalWizardNerd7, and FMAlcheholic.

This was a nice break from the flow of the story, hopefully. It seems like it might be a good idea to stick in there every couple of chapters. Again, tell me what you think, favorite if you really like it, and subscribe if you want to keep reading it!

God bless, and happy reading. And Happy Halloween to boot!


	20. Games

Things came back slowly. Pain, of course, was always at the forefront of all the other sensations. It came trumpeting in like a standard bearer into battle ahead of an army. He could see the backs of his eyelids, ignoring the pounding in his head as he traced the dark veins outlined against salmon colored skin. Finally, he opened his eyes, and he sucked in a big breath.

He immediately stood up, already in a battle stance. Every nerve was shouting, and adrenaline seethed in his system at a froth. He remembered being hit with something. It'd felt like a bee sting to the neck, and he'd only had a second to question what it was before blacking out. Now, he was sure that he'd been captured, which meant he must be in a prison cell of some sort, but...

This was an awfully plush prison cell.

Ed began to relax a little, despite keeping his stance. Soft carpet, fine as moss, rustled under his feet as he shifted his weight between both legs. The walls were made of opaque glass, which seemed to be a popular thing in Patron City. He had no doubt that the opacity was actually a controlled illusion. He'd been lying on a couch in the middle of what looked like some sort of high tech living room. There was a wall screen, this one made of glass rather than plastic, and there were small, black boxes spread around the room on stands. He could only guess at their function. There were no doors, no windows.

Ed straightened up, and he further investigated his surroundings. He saw a couple of other couches, each containing one or two of his companions. Despite the seriousness of their situation, Ed couldn't help but wish he had a camera as he snickered at Alice and Zhang cuddling with each other in their sleep. She'd be mortified if she ever found out.

Ed sighed to himself, scratching his head. He wished he knew what was going on...

He could hear noises outside of their glass walls. He had contemplated breaking the glass in order to make an escape route, but he also remembered just how hard glass happened to be nowadays. Funny - he'd never thought that something like the hardness of glass could change from one century to the next. Ed pressed an ear against the glass, hoping for a better idea of their location. There had to be more outside of this room.

He could hear a dull roar, but not much more. It could be some sort of machine outside, but that gave him no clues. He sighed as he began to search the walls for some sort of panel for the glass opacity.

A gasp rang in the still air, and Ed jerked his head towards the sound. He watched with amusement as Zhang blurrily blinked and realized he was sleeping next to Alice.

"Wait... am I dead? Is this heaven? It looks like heaven. Please tell me this is heaven," Zhang whispered loudly to Ed, and Ed smiled. The perky Xingese emissary never ceased to make him grin. He shrugged, and he said, "Sorry, bud." Zhang fell back against the bed with a light groan. He looked at Alice and made a face, though Ed could see under the grimace a trace of satisfaction. Zhang pushed himself off the bed, getting up with a wince. He rubbed his legs, and he said, "Man, I'm sore. What about you?" Ed took a deep breath, also wincing as he did so. His back was still in pain from those cuts, but it didn't seem like they were open. In fact, they felt as if they'd already healed quite a bit. Mostly, his muscles felt overworked, but other than that he felt fine.

"A little. Any idea where we are?" Ed asked, and Zhang shook his head. They both looked towards the sleepers.

"Should we wake them up?" Ed wondered. He scratched his head, feeling along his scalp for any surprise bumps or telltale marks of intrusion. He didn't find any.

"Nah. Might as well let them sleep a while. It'll definitely make Nirvana less cranky when she wakes up. You can guess what she'll do the minute she cracks open her eyes," Zhang said. He mimed picking up one of the boxes by its stand and smashing it into the window. He made the corresponding sound effect quietly, and Ed snickered. He'd contemplated that himself, honestly, but at least he was smart enough to know that was a bad idea.

They sat on the couch and tried to figure out the glass wall screen while the others slowly came back to life one by one.

The first thing Alice said was, "I'm starving. Got any chow?"

"You just woke up in what could be a prison cell, and the first thing on your mind is food?" Ed asked incredulously, and Alice shrugged.

"I've got my priorities straight. Problem?"

Thaddeus woke up next. He immediately leaped to his feet, much the same way Ed had, but his results were far less favorable. He collapsed to both knees holding his stomach, and all three teenagers helped him to his feet.

"What's the matter? Are you sick or something?" Ed asked. Thaddeus looked pale, even paler than usual, and he sweated as he made himself stand on both feet.

"I'll be fine in a minute. I just... must not have taken well to being dosed. Sedatives have unwarranted side effects." For a few minutes, they'd been afraid that he'd throw up, but he managed to keep his breakfast in its designated location. Nirvana wasn't far behind him after that, and her revival was a lot less dramatic than Zhang had thought.

"Freaking Father, leave me for a minute. Can't hardly get any air with you guys spitting out your carbon dioxide all over me. Get out of here already! Good _night _I have a headache..."

Hohenheim woke up last, nearly thirty minutes after Nirvana. They'd been afraid he'd succumbed to some sort of coma, due to his age, but when he got up, he was exceedingly chipper.

"That was the best sleep I've had in years! Remind me when we leave to pick up some of that sedative. I've been having issues falling asleep for the past few decades. Man, I feel like new!"

"Dad, that was a heavy soporific! You don't just take it like it's some sort of sleeping pill!"

"Why not? It worked, didn't it?"

For the next hour or so, they discussed their possible location, reasons for being in such a nice cell (but a cell, never the less), and who had captured them.

Nirvana winced at the last question. "I know who kidnapped us, actually. Some relation of Don's named Kade. The guy ran a minor slave ring under Don alongside the boss's prostitution gambit. A guy came at me in the metro, had a knife to my back. I think Kade only wanted me, but knowing that he had another couple of alchemists on his hands was probably too much of a catch to pass up. He doesn't know which of you guys are alchemists or not, though, from what I understand. That's the only reason why he's kept us together rather than just wasting the lot of you."

"Do you think he's out for your head?" Zhang asked. "Why didn't he just kill you while you were knocked out?" Everyone stared at Zhang with sardonic stares. It took Zhang a moment to process what he'd just said. He slapped his forehead.

"Duh. Never mind. Forget I said anything."

"So you have no idea where this Kade fellow might have stashed us?" Hohenheim asked seriously. His fingers drummed against his leg, and Ed couldn't help but feel irritated by the noise. He, too, was developing a headache. He figured that it was a side effect from being dosed. Nirvana shrugged.

"No clue. My target was Don, not Kade. He was a small fry, nothing major. That might've changed, though. For all I know, we're in a penthouse right now at the top of the Eyrie section of the city and there's no way we're getting back down unless we want to jump," Nirvana admitted. She looked slightly shaken. Her face was ashy as leaned against Thaddeus. The other man had recovered quite well, but he still looked sick. His face only fell grimmer after Nirvana's input.

"I don't know. Something tells me they couldn't have moved us far," Ed stated. He wasn't sure how he knew this fact, but it seemed plausible to him in some strange, instinctual way. Alice nodded in agreement.

"Those CCTV cameras are everywhere in this district, just in case smugglers try to bring things into the city through the loading stations. The homunculi would know in a heartbeat if someone was trying to smuggle people. You can fool the CCTVs every couple of feet by doctoring the running footage, but it'd take too long to get out of the district. He can't have gone far," Alice reasoned.

Suddenly, the glass wall screen came to life, and the prisoners jumped to their feet in surprise. A face appeared on the wall screen. The man was wearing a gray, charcoal suit with a silken tie, and he looked well-groomed. Ed thought he was reminiscent of a slimy business man, the type that came knocking at your front door on a Sunday morning to bother you with his brochures on prime real estate near Creta. The man smiled, displaying long, white (obviously bleached) teeth. His nose was thin, and his eyes were suspiciously merry. His hair was overly lustrous, as if someone was constantly shining a light on it. All together, he exuded a sort of phoniness that set Ed's teeth on edge.

"Rise and shine, lovelies! Ah, I see all of you are already up," the man stated, and Ed assumed this must be Kade. Something whirred, and Ed caught a glimpse of a black dome camera out of the corner of his eye.

"Sorry I couldn't greet you properly, but at the moment I'm a little busy. However, I decided it wouldn't be right to leave my guests without a little entertainment, so I decided to whip something special up for you all while you wait," Kade said, his voice grating on Ed's ears. His voice was phony, too. It sounded plastic and flat, as if someone had taken a human voice and removed the timbre and vibe to it. It gave a sense of inhumanity through its humanness, though if it had sounded like a normal voice it would've been incredibly pleasant to hear.

"Enjoy," Kade said, making a gesture they couldn't see, and the opacity of the glass walls began to fade. Ed frowned as the opacity disappeared in regular, circle shaped patterns, revealing -

He stepped back from the edge of the wall in surprise. There was a massive arena spread out before them made of varying terrains set inside of an oval track nearly a mile long. Walls that looked nearly fifty feet high rose on all sides, and stadium seats ringed the arena.

They were in a penthouse glass-box. Nirvana, Zhang, Alice, Hohenheim, and Thaddeus joined Edward as they also realized just how high they were in the air. The glass was so clear, it gave the illusion that there was nothing between them and the air below. Zhang swallowed, and he said, "This looks... like fun?"

A crowd roared in the seats as music thrummed through the glass, and Ed noticed that a pedestal had risen from the floor near the wall. He grabbed the shiny black instrument, turning it over in his hands. Alice immediately plucked it out of his hands, and she pressed a few buttons.

"Fancy. This is definitely newer than our sound system models back home," Alice said with a tone of awe as she flipped through different channels. Ed realized that the black boxes on stands were actually speakers. He could hear the crowd through them, as well as the music.

Suddenly, a cool announcer stated, "The games begin. This round will be a standoff in an anti-grav environ between Habin Clorick and Crater." All six prisoners looked down into the arena, noticing a miniscule door open on either side of the wide arena. The wall screen came to life with a live action image of the first contender, Habin Clorick. He was a large man of nearly seven feet with dark skin and three scars across his back. He gave a deafening roar, and the crowd roared back in reply. The man seemed to be enjoying himself.

The other door opened, and a young, very scrawny man stepped out with slow, hesitant steps. His eyes shifted like those of a rat as he cautiously entered the light of the arena. The crowd instantly turned on him, booing and jeering at him. He was obviously not a favorite. The bets flashed across the top of the screen as the two squared off on either side.

_"50,000 cc's per unit (CLOR) : 5,000 cc's per unit (CRAT)"_

The odds didn't look good. At least, not for the skinny guy.

"What is this? Some sort of competition?" Ed wondered out loud. Hohenheim looked grim as he said, "Yes, unfortunately. I hadn't thought Father would bring back the games."

"What are 'the games'?" Thaddeus asked, though he looked like he had an idea. Hohenheim sighed through his nose, long and drawn out, before explaining, "They were fight matches between slaves. It wasn't uncommon for them to happen once or twice a year. It was a contest between owners to see who had the best slaves in the city, possibly the nation. I was never a participant, but my father was. He survived, but only because he'd lost a hand and his owner was afraid that further competition would deprive him of his ability to work. From what Nirvana's told me of this Kade fellow, I'd say that Father sanctioned this himself in order to feed the circles with power by using this man's business sense."

"What does that mean for us?" Alice asked with a hint of panic. She unconsciously covered the bar code on her arm. Ed felt dread drift into the pit of his stomach as he came to the realization of what that could mean for them both. As a man who knows the slave trade, Kade could easily get rid of the tracker ink and brand them both as his instead. It was possible they would end up in these games as well once Kade was finished with Nirvana.

"I don't know," Hohenheim admitted, and silence ruled the air.

They turned back to the events unfolding below. The opponents were circling each other, sizing the other up, when the larger rushed the smaller. However, Crater was much faster than the lumbering ram of muscle with whom he contended, and he easily circumvented him. Crater skidded across the ground as he fell into a slide near a dark colored panel on the ground, and he quickly tried to flip it open. It sprang open easily, and he snatched out a rod made of fake wood. From where Ed sat, he could see the little, pale man curse under his breath at his bad luck, and he followed the smaller contestant with his eyes as Crater dodged Clorick a second time. This time, though, instead of just dodging, Crater brought the rod down on the back of the other man's knees, and Clorick let out a loud yelp.

Crater edged farther away, stumbling over the uneven ground beneath him, and Ed noticed that his clothes actually looked like they were moving in slow motion, as if he were in water. Finally, Ed noticed the silver, shimmering dome made of thin wire strapped across the top of the arena. It must be the device that caused the strange gravitational distortions. It disappeared from sight as Ed shifted his head, and he frowned.

"How long do these things last?" Ed asked. Crater ducked a swing at his head.

"Five minutes, at the most, when I was a kid," Hohenheim guessed. Crater landed another hit, but the tip of his rod broke.

"When do they quit fighting? How do they choose the winner?" Ed asked. Clorick kicked pebbles into Crater's face, and Crater was momentarily blinded. Clorick landed a sickening punch to the other man's head.

"In this fight, I'm not sure. The original games lasted until first blood was drawn to keep the slaves from being too banged up to work. This doesn't look quite as forgiving," Hohenheim pondered, rubbing his stubble.

"I didn't even know this existed," Nirvana said in horror-struck awe as Clorick twisted one of Crater's arms. The little man screamed in pain before managing to stick a foot in the other's face, breaking the other man's nose. "I had no idea this was even here..."

"It must've come up in the years you left," Zhang muttered. "Stuff like this can crop up fairly quickly." Crater stabbed the broken end of his rod into Clorick's thigh, but at the cost of getting backhanded nearly ten feet. The anti-grav restricted just how far Crater could go, a possible godsend.

"Did you know about this, Thad?" Nirvana breathed, and Thaddeus stated, "No, I didn't. This is all new to me." Finally, Clorick got his hands on a dark panel, pulling up on it. A jet of fire roared out, searing the man's left side with a blast-furnace flame. He roared in pain as he backed away, looking like he'd been half-cooked. Ed felt his stomach roll.

"Not all of those panels have weapons. It's a crapshoot," Ed muttered.

"What's a crapshoot?" Alice asked, sounding just as sick as Ed felt.

"A crapshoot means chance. Craps was a dice game. You take a risk by opening the panels, just like you do rolling dice," Ed explained. Crater took his chance, and he barraged Clorick's wounded, burned side with a series of kicks and punches. The larger man wasn't going to hold out much longer, not with wounds like those. Ed felt a thrill of hope for the littler man as Clorick fell backwards. Crater lifted a foot to smash into Clorick's face, which would immediately put him out of the game by knocking him unconscious, but Clorick was quick enough to grab the man's ankle.

Ed watched dully as the little man was lifted off the ground. Clorick stood up, the larger man's grin a sight to behold with its charred half-lips and its nasty blisters. Crater struggled, but he couldn't get out of Clorick's grip. Clorick walked over to the blast-furnace panel, and he switched to his other hand to hold the little man. Crater screamed and fought as he put two and two together. Ed suddenly grabbed Alice, holding her head to his chest as he covered her ears. She gripped him as, through Ed's hands, she heard a muffled, dying scream and the sound of flame going _fwoooosh_. Everyone turned away as the larger man held up the charred, small body in his grip like a trophy, roaring to the world his challenge. The crowd cheered with vehemence.

On the wall screen, a childish, video-game like sign read "CLORICK IS VICTORIOUS."

* * *

Grayson's face was somber as he stared at the damning evidence. Or, rather, the lack of damning evidence. This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all.

The signal that the tracker ink Ed and Al had in their systems had quit transmitting, but it didn't look as if the transmission had _died. _It was more like, something was blocking it. Imal was working hard to figure out a way to get around the transmission block, but unfortunately the lack of information on the block itself was proving to be a large obstacle for them. The others, who were no doubt with them, were just as firmly hidden.

"What does this mean? Think, Grayson, think," the man muttered to himself, mussing his white-blond hair into a veritable cloud. He'd been working on a little project of his when Georgia had interrupted him. She'd expected him to figure out an answer - after all, he had experience with the city. Shouldn't he know what was going on? Unfortunately, anyone that Grayson might've known was either dead, wasted, in a prison, or currently unavailable by normal means. His network consisted of people from the sewer lines, and those weirdos didn't pay attention to what lay above their tunnel systems as long as they left them alone.

He paced up and down, up and down. Richie had just been in here, interrupting Grayson's train of thought. The usually excitable man was even more unstable and active, seeing as the deadline for the launch happened to be in the next forty-eight hours. If they couldn't find Ed and Al by then, they'd have to leave roughly half their team behind. There was no way the Oasis government would allow an infiltration in the city just to save four measly lives that weren't worth much more than any other worker drone in the compound. That was all they saw sometimes, numbers. It was a failing that was inevitable when it came to politics. A person was a statistic, not a living, breathing, sentient being.

And Grayson _knew _he was on the verge of an idea. He had everything right in front of him! All the information was right there, sitting on his table, while he paced here like a maniac with a gnawing sensation on his brain. It was_ there_, it was all _there _if he could just force his brain to-

He stared at the map of the city again. He retraced Ed and Al's journey carefully, noting the stops and starts. He'd thought those were strange, but he'd attributed it to the group trying to keep from getting lost. Now that he looked at it, he realized that they were very regular, not at all the sporadic pattern of someone stopping every so often just to look at a map or gather their bearings. This was a _systematic _path.

"Bertrand, show current nebula of signal," Grayson commanded strongly. He crossed his arms, biting a finger as he stared at the nebula of signals emitted from the city. There were dozens upon dozens upon dozens of them. They were all different hues, their names floating inside the clouds they belonged to. They were Web signals, they were car signals, they were camera signals, but there must be _somewhere_, a dead zone, that was _not _giving off signals. Grayson had something forming in his mind as he retraced Ed and Al's final steps before they'd disappeared.

Here. The trial stopped here, where there were only two signals, a wireless Web signal and a usual phone signal. However, these signals...

"Bertrand, give me the sine/cosine functions for the following signals: WPA55093 and PPA424240."

"Apologies, sir. Can not retrieve sine/cosine configurations." Grayson cursed. He paced again. Systematic starting and stopping... signals that couldn't, or didn't, have sine/cosine configurations... disappearing signals from tracker ink... Something wasn't right here. He'd been mulling it over for so long that he hadn't thought to add other factors into the mix. What was it like on the ground?

"Bertrand, give me topographical visuals of this section of the city." The Widget program responded in kind as best it could, a grainy tridemigraphic of the city streets and their store fronts. He had a miniature model of that section of city right there. It wasn't live action - there was no movement in the streets - but it would do. Grayson analyzed it carefully, thinking and thinking and think-

The door slammed open, and Georgia asked gruffly, "Do you have _any-_"

"**Shut. _UP_.**" Georgia was taken aback by how vehement Grayson sounded. The man was leaning against the table, his bony shoulders sticking up as he hunched over it with his head hung low, examining the mini-model of the city displayed on the tabletop.

"I. Need. You. To. Shut. Up." Grayson punctuated each word with a single pound of his fist on the table, causing the entire model to shake. Georgia stood there, stock still, before finally saying, "All right."

She should've expected this. Hilary was a fool to let Grayson come. Yes, he was an amazing human documentary device, but Patron City held so many bad memories it was a wonder he didn't break down. He tossed and turned at night, and she could hear it through the walls. This place held bad blood for him, and it was affecting his very personality. His bouncy behavior had become one of erratic neurosis and irritability. His cheery personality was being stripped down to an optimistic core that was constantly surrounded by grim gallows humor and single-minded focus on tasks. No doubt the loss of his compatriots within the city decades prior were what was driving his current obsession with finding Edward, Alice, Zhang, and Nirvana. She could hardly say that she empathized, but at the least she could sympathize. She left quietly.

Grayson rotated the city picture around and around, even so far as putting it upside down. There was nothing about it that was extraordinary. It was a few city blocks with light poles, buildings, windows, sidewalks -

Light poles. Grayson frowned as he stared at the grainy shots of the light poles. He chewed the tip of his finger again, biting so hard that he almost couldn't stand it. His fingers, needless to say, were a mess by this point.

"Bertrand, zoom on block 2A." The Widget complied, and the grainy photo became a little clearer, but not by much. Grayson sighed to himself. Light poles had CCTV cameras. CCTVs had film, which meant that they'd seen the troupe of people. He was an idiot! He should've figured the CCTVs in. He called out loudly, "IMAL! GET OVER HERE! CHOP CHOP, WASTING DAYLIGHT, MOVE MOVE MOVE."

Imal burst in the door, looking irritable and haggard. The loss of his adoptive sister was taking a toll. He too had fallen prey to the city's ability to strip personalities to their core elements. He was more taciturn than ever, only ever muttering two or three words a day. He crossed his arms, and his eyes glowered. He didn't bother with a question.

"Get me the footage from these CCTVs," Grayson said in a distracted tone as he continued to look up and down the street for anything he'd missed. Imal left without a word, the strong presence leaving the room feeling much bigger. Grayson stood back up and sighed. He sat down in a chair, bouncing his leg. Kojak stepped in the doorway, but upon seeing Grayson in his unkempt state, he decided it wasn't worth asking about the mission detail on the pickup vehicle for their departure. Guun entered the room mere minutes later, and he was less perturbed by Grayson's strange intensity.

"Any luck?" Guun asked. Grayson shook his head, and he bounced to his feet again. The tall, gawky man paced back and forth, suddenly spewing information.

"I don't understand it. I just don't understand it. I can't get the sine/cosine configs for the signals, and I can't locate any of their tracker ink sigs from Imal's program, and there's this thing with the light poles. I need that footage from the CCTVs, and there's something _wrong _with the pattern that Al and Ed took. They're not lost, they're not moving, and they're not currently emitting a signal, which means they're somewhere in a dead zone or they've been captured, but that means we can't go and get them, not in forty-eight hours. There _are _no dead zones within a fifty mile radius, and there are only so many places they could go for them to hide, and they should still be emitting signals, but there are _none. _This isn't making any sense," Grayson stammered out at a surprising velocity. Guun lifted his thin, black eyebrows at the man's continued stream of words. He hadn't thought that the tall man could talk quite that fast, but then again, he'd seen him get heated during conferences over historical monuments within Oasis.

"Perhaps they have been captured, in which case their signal could be masked. Isn't there a way to look for something that doesn't exist? After all, a hole is seen because there is nothing in it," Guun stated calmly, piecing things together in his mind. "But then again, thinking that they've been captured is merely an assumption. They could be lost as well. Maybe there is a dead zone for a different kind of signal that is also blocking theirs." Grayson suddenly stood stock still outside the window. Looking down, he could see slaves milling about on everyday duties, carrying loads and messages whilst conversing with fellow slaves for only moments at a time. Pad loaders were interspersed with the slaves, gray dots in the midst of a blue-purple sea.

"Something that doesn't exist..." Grayson breathed. He suddenly snapped his fingers and spat out, "Bertrand, give me the signals for every single bit of tracker ink that's emitting right now. I don't care what they are, just do it! All signal types, all companies, everything." The Widget fought to keep up with the command. Grayson watched in anticipation as red dots bloomed all over the city block in his model. Soon, most everything was covered.

Except for one large square. There were absolutely none in that one square or around it. Just like that, the Widget gave up on the command, its energy completely consumed trying to comply with Grayson's command. It fizzled out, and the model of the city disappeared. Grayson stood there, the image ingrained in his head, as Guun picked up the smoking Widget.

"I think you broke it," Guun stated calmly. Grayson began to smile.

"Not important. I'm thinking we're beginning to get what we need." Imal suddenly came back, and he shook his head.

"No luck on the CCTVs. Shows nyet for the time frame. Just the same stretch of street," Imal said dejectedly. Grayson's smile grew bigger, and he clapped Imal on the shoulders with a smile.

"Good!" Imal was confused at the man's jubilation as the wild-haired man moved around with birdlike mania.

"Good?" Guun asked. Grayson walked up to the big man and plucked the smoking Widget out of his fingers with his own long, thin digits. Grayson gave a massive smile, like a small child on Christmas, and he said, "_Very. _Good." He started to peel the Widget apart, inserting a new battery pack from one in a drawer. Luckily, he'd had the foresight to buy more.

"What does this all mean?" Guun asked, his deep voice rumbling in his chest with a touch of his accent. He leaned against the wall. He was beginning to see what Grayson was getting at, but this was still as perplexing as finding a rabbit with its foot stuck in a window fifty feet off the ground covered in icing. Grayson turned his Widget back on, and it started to return to its original task before Grayson gave it a new one.

"Locate 672nd and Harkseth Street," Grayson said, and the Widget gave a close up of a large, warehouse-like building with no windows but plenty of doors.

"It means that someone is deliberately jamming Ed and Al's signal, but not _just _them. There's a signal jamming every single slave's transmission as well, making them impossible to find individually. But if you get enough people together that you have to mask..." Grayson trailed off, looking up at his companions. Imal understood immediately.

"You end up with a large hole in a signal map of slave transmissions," Imal finished. Guun smiled.

"A hole can be seen because there is nothing in it," Guun restated, and Grayson nodded.

"Exactly. Now, all we have to do is figure out who is in this building, why they're jamming the signal, and what he could possibly want Ed and Al for," Grayson said, leaving the other two in his dust. Guun and Imal stared, dumbfounded. Their brains fought to keep up with the other man's racing thoughts.

"You mean, they've been kidnapped? Not just lost or wandering around?" Guun asked, and Grayson nodded quickly. His long, white fingers drummed the table, making the image of the city shake like jello.

"Yes, they have to be. Those cameras didn't have footage because someone replaced them, _painstakingly_ replaced them, in order to cover up a kidnap. I think it's safe to say whoever took Ed and Al probably took Nirvana and Zhang, too, because they would've managed to find us or rendezvous with us at some point. Nirvana's smarter than just to lay low and do nothing, after all. She has informants," Grayson explained. He began pacing again.

"Are you sure you're not just overestimating Nirvana's abilities in navigating the city?" Imal asked suspiciously. His dark eyes were shadowed slightly by a heavy, darkened brow. His patience was being worn thin, especially with all of Grayson's pacing, drumming, and constant movement. It was chafing his nerves.

"Positive. I've seen her work. I _know _how she works. I used to work the city like she did, for years even, before I got out. Believe me, she would be able to find us," Grayson said, finally stopping at the window. He stared out. Somewhere out there, in a large warehouse big enough to hold a football field or two, Ed and Al were captured. For whatever reason, they were there, but he wasn't sure why. He just had to-

Football field.

The phrase smashed into him like a sledge hammer to the head. _Warehouse big enough to hold a football field..._ Grayson stared at the tridimegraphic with a look of question. For some reason that thought had struck a chord, and he didn't know why.

"Go get Georgia. We know where they are. Now let's fetch them," Grayson said, his words sounding far away and soft spoken. Stumped by his sudden trance, the two men walked out of the room. There was no time to waste.

Grayson walked to his chair and collapsed into it, staring at the image. Entranced, he continued to examine it, wondering for the life of him what it was that had him so confused as to think that he'd actually ended up stumbling into a bigger mystery rather than having just solved it.

* * *

**A/N:** Shew, it's been a long time since I've posted for this story, but I finally have another chapter out! It's been, what, two months? Anyways, I have another chapter that's steaming hot and ready to go right after this one, so you guys won't have to wait long. All you gotta do is sit tight while clean up goes on, and it should be up and ready to go in the next day or so.

So, recognition time! I'd like to thank my reviewers, FMAlcheholic, FullMetalWizardNerd7, Dashita Tichou, TailsMoon, Hikari Hellion, and rainstripe for their input on the last chapter. I'm glad you all liked the break from the story, and hopefully you don't mind getting back into the swing of things with more sci-fi goodness.

To my favoriteers, I'd like to thank Germo103, the only new favoriteer that I've got. But hey, one is always enough. Quality, not quantity!

To my subscribers, I'd like to thank Ambarwen, another single newbie out to face the world on their own. You brave, brave soul.

I don't mean to complain about reviews (after all, I _love _reviews) and it seems unfair seeing as I kind of did it last chapter, but I'd like a bit of personal input on thoughts and such about... well, anything about the story, such as what it might remind you of, or what you'd like to see, what you don't like at all, that sort of thing. I enjoy incredibly in-depth reviews, but just a short ditty on how you liked a specific part is nice as well. As such, I've got a few discourse questions just to get you started.

Do the games remind you of anything? Are they too derivative? Are the OCs sufficiently realistic? Are there parts that made you laugh? What about parts that made you angry? How well do you think the characters are characterized? Is Ed in-character? Or does he need to wander off to the land where OOCs go to die in regret? What do you think of the latest OC? Are there too many in this series? Would you like to see more of already established canon characters in some way, shape, or form?

Well, that's about it. God bless, and Merry Christmas!

-Doctor Yok


	21. Fake

Ed released Alice as she shook like a leaf, ready to drop. Zhang immediately led her to the couches. He tried not to listen to their conversation as Alice whispered frantically to Zhang.

"I'm a hacker, not a fighter. If they put me out there, I'll die. Zhang, I don't want to die. I really don't want to die."

"Al, you're not going to die. You're going to be fine, okay? Come on, just sit down a minute, and you'll feel better..."

"But that... that guy just fried-"

"Just sit down, Al."

Edward paced, his mood darkened by the ensuing battle. They'd treated it like some child's game. It didn't matter to them that someone living, or someone who had been living about five seconds ago, was just fried to death. It was all just entertainment. He wondered if any of the spectators out there realized that this was real, not just some paltry theater show.

The wall screen came on again, and Kade's face reappeared, the same plastic countenance.

"Wasn't that fun? Give Clorick a round of applause!" There was a smattering of appraisal from the people around Kade who were off screen, and Kade continued to grin with those white, fake looking teeth.

"He's always been a favorite from the Cloverleaf company. You remember them, right? They always manage to have such nice slaves to pick from for their games. Too bad I can't give you back to them, but for a fighter like you, Blondie, I'd have to search through about a thousand more applicants, and that's no fun. Now, now, one more game, one more. I think you'll _especially _like this one, Nirvana. The Homunculi love watching this one fight." The wall screen turned back into a blank, colorless piece of glass, and Ed frowned. He looked out into the crowds, searching for the Homunculi. He could see special boxes that hung around the edges of the arena, but they were tinted. Those _had _to be the Homunculi seats - they looked too expensive for the average spectator, and they were too pricy even for the richest of the district.

The cool announcer again stated, "The games will soon commence. Arena to be changed. All contestants off the field." Clorick looked up, and he dropped the body in his hand. he stiffly began to walk away from the arena, passing through the miniscule door. The field was transformed by a massive array of poles that shot out of the ground, creating a sort of jungle gym. Ed found the analogy unsettling, seeing as a child's toy was about to be used as an environment of death. The panels were moved as well. They were now on the bars of the jungle gym, which happened to be about a meter thick all the way around.

The announcer called, "The games begin. This round will be a standoff in an electric cage match with an anti-grav environ between The Grace Stroke and Phantasm."

"Great. They even have stage names," Ed muttered. Nirvana grunted in agreement to his sentiments as the entire process from the first round was again executed. The two contenders walked out, were named, and took their stances. The first one, The Grace Stroke, was tall and willowy. She was a woman with long, flowing hair and a pleasant face. She didn't look much like a fighter, but appearances could be deceiving (as Crater had shown them, despite his failure). The other was short, probably a good head shorter than Ed himself. She looked nearly child-like, and Ed wondered, for a moment, if in fact she _was _a child. There wasn't much he could see of her, seeing as her face was covered by a long, probably see-through hood. In her gray cape, she did look like a phantasm.

_300,000 cc's per unit (GRAC): 1,000,000 cc's per unit (PHAN)_

All was still...

There was a blur, and the two contestants seemed to disappear. Ed realized after a moment that they had merely moved. He wondered if anti-gravity had changed the nature of the physics around them. No doubt, there was a colossal circle inscribed underneath the arena that gave it its abnormalities. Finally, the two contestants came into view again, and they began to fight hand to hand, bouncing off of the meter-thick poles like pinballs in a machine.

"Sheesh, the alphysics needed to do all of this..." Nirvana breathed as she watched. The fight between Clorick and Crater hadn't highlighted the effects of the anti-grav like the current one with Phantasm and Grace Stroke. This one was faster paced. It was like watching birds attack each other in a maze of branches. Despite her size, Phantasm had landed several good sized blows on the larger, taller Grace Stroke. Already there was a bruise forming on the larger girl's cheek where a fist had made contact with her face. This fight looked more evenly matched than the last one.

Grace Stroke reached for a panel above her, pulling it down. A knife fell out of the cavity down to the ground below, nearly twenty feet. Grace Stroke glanced between the knife and Phantasm, who was standing on a thick pole nearly fifty feet away. It was suddenly a race to reach the knife, the two flashing past.

The announcer suddenly blared, "PARADIGM SHIFT."

Ed frowned as he watched the two contestants and their quarry fly up as if sucked in by some massive force. The two fighters scrabbled for the knife that was sliding along the underside of the dome they were now standing on, and Grace managed to win the weapon. As he watched, Ed came to realize that they _had _been sucked in by a massive force - gravity. Someone had managed to actually _change _gravity completely.

As if to compound this new-fangled idea, it stated, "The anti-grav properties are now a reverse-gravity polarity." The crowd went absolutely wild at the change, and Ed wondered if that was the intended effect. It took Ed yet another moment to realize he could now see the contestants better, albeit flipped upside down. It was an odd effect, seeing as Ed had expected both their hair to be hanging in the air, yet it was perfectly stationary as if they were standing on the ground. The fighting grew more intense, with Phantasm blocking everything that Grace could throw at her. The knife managed to nick her several times, though, from the rips in her clothes, and Ed could tell she was growing tired.

He glanced over at the others, and he was surprised to find Nirvana stiff and white. Her lips were pressed together in a hard line, and her nostrils were flared. He could practically see the little hamster wheel in her brain turning. Something about this feat had her riled, but he wasn't sure what it was. Was it the alphysics they were using? Was it the fight itself? She hadn't seemed this perturbed even when Crater had been fried alive, but now she looked like she'd seen a ghost.

The thought struck Ed, and he glanced back at the fighter. She was small... but just large enough to pass for a teenage girl. What would a girl be doing in a fight like this? He was beginning to put together the pieces, but the pieces weren't making anything that resembled a coherent thought...

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" Ed asked, unable to hold in his curiosity. Nirvana stared at him with a perplexed and annoyed glare, and Ed realized she had no idea what the phrase meant. It had fallen into disuse.

"You're quiet."

"I could say the same of you. You're no Silent Bob either." Eye for an eye, he guessed. He had no idea what a Silent Bob was, but he could guess. Nirvana was fidgeting by now, though, bouncing from foot to foot.

"She just... she just reminds me of someone I know. That's it. I could swear she's dead by now. I hate to think of the alternatives." Ed studied Nirvana's face. This really did bother her. Perhaps she had a heart after all, because if her friend was back from the dead, it meant she was either a homunculus, or possibly something worse. This city could turn out some really weird things, and he figured that bringing things back from the dead by unnatural, disgusting means was within their abilities.

Suddenly, in the interim, Phantasm gained the upper hand. Grace's eyes grew wide as her opponent attacked with stronger vigor, and she had to fight to keep from being completely overwhelmed. By some happenstance, Phantasm managed to steal the knife from her attacker. At this point, Ed had decided to sit, and he watched with unabashed anticipation. The tide had turned, it seemed. They fought much in the same manner as before, bouncing off the thick poles and launching themselves at one another. Minutes after losing her knife, Grace acquired a long staff with a laser blade on the end from another panel, though she nearly had her head sliced off for her troubles.

He heard Zhang whistle appreciatively.

"Sick," the Xing emissary muttered under his breath, and Ed wondered at the conflict in tone and word. What was so sick about the blade? She hadn't done anything with it yet.

Now it was almost a stalemate between the two women, or, rather, the girl and the woman. It was fairly matched, and it was clear that Grace was flagging. However, Ed felt as if the world had slowed as he watched Phantasm go in for an upward strike, leaving her entire right side open for attack. Ed had watched her fight, and he'd gotten a feel for how she operated. This was a terribly risky move, one he found hard to believe. What was her game?

Grace took the opportunity to slam the blade up the front of the girl's chest, carving a deep rut. There was nary a word spoken, but Ed noted that there was something off about this. Something was missing, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. It was essential, needed, and yet it was no where in sight. Why was that? What was it that he was -

Blood.

There was no blood.

Where was the blood?

The crowd was roared as they watched Phantasm fall back. Perhaps the lack of blood was due to the nature of the blade. There might be a cauterizing effect, or maybe the wound had been cut with so sharp a blade that it wouldn't immediately spray blood.

Still, they stood there for several minutes, and there was no blood at all. Grace watched with confusion as Phantasm straightened up as if there was absolutely nothing wrong with her. The hood was eerie over her face, and Ed was beginning to understand why they called her Phantasm. The lack of blood from the rut in her chest was eerie and made Ed feel uneasy. In fact, _none _of her wounds were bleeding. The spectators didn't have the luxury of a close-up screen of the fight, but Ed did. He noted that there were no blood stains on her robe.

The robe fell away as Phantasm charged forwards. She moved so fast, Grace didn't have time to lift her staff in retaliation. The woman was caught unaware as a knife was jammed across the side of her throat.

And this time, there _was _blood.

The crowd cheered in a cacophony as Grace fell to the top of the cage made of metal pipes. They were baying for more blood, but Phantasm at least had the honor to leave Grace's body alone. She merely stood, finally revealing herself. The robe she had worn fluttered at her feet, drifting towards the top of the cage. She wore a loose white tunic in the style of a slave with dark blue pants. Across her chest, the mark still stood clear as day, but Ed could clearly see that on the inside she held a collection of wires and electronics. Ed's eyes widened.

This fight had been rigged. The girl wasn't truly a _girl. _She was an automaton. That was the only explanation for the lack of blood and the seemingly endless reserves of energy despite her 'tiring' during the first half. He felt horror rise within him as he began to put the pieces together.

The winner walked away quietly, ignoring the crowd. The group, Nirvana included, watched in awe and slight disgust. They'd used a robot to kill a person for the sake of entertainment. They'd really thought she was real. She'd moved like a human, fought like a human, even _tired _like a human, and yet...

"I've never seen a robot that complex. We have nothing that close in our own labs. The prototypes are still in their infant stages," Alice breathed. Her face was a mix of abjection and, perhaps, amazement. It slowly dawned on the rest of them.

"Why haven't the Homunculi crushed us yet? They could weed us out like rats if they wanted. Especially with that sort of tech," Nirvana muttered. Her hands clenched.

"Who was she, Nirvana?" Ed asked quietly. Nirvana remained staring out at the field. Kade had yet to say anything more, and the wall screen stayed blank.

"Ed - "

"Nirvana, you knew who she was."

Color rose in her face, and she suddenly shouted, "What does it matter? It's a thing, Ed! Who it looks like isn't important!"

The blond alphysicist was quiet for quite a while, breathing hard as she stared at the stolid alchemist, before she whispered, "She fights the same way my best friend does. Respectful, fair, but brutal. There's no other fighting style like hers. I don't know how they managed to program it, seeing she's probably been dead for nearly a year. Disappeared on an assignment -"

Before she could elaborate, a wall panel slid back behind them. They turned around, those sitting down hastily standing up in order to do so. The man who'd been on the wall screen no more than fifteen minutes before walked into the room with several attendants and stiff guards behind. In the soft lighting of the plush glass box, he looked even more fake. His hair seemed plastic, his teeth looked ceramic, his skin looked like nylon, and his eyes looked like glass. All together, it made him incredibly unsettling. There was little resemblance between Kade and Don, though they may have had the same nose or perhaps the same squint to their eyes. Ed couldn't tell, seeing as this man looked like he'd been manufactured rather than born.

"Did you enjoy the show? Yes? Good. I thought you would. Now sit down, all of you. Yes, come on, sit, sit. It's all right, go ahead. I know you're all anxious to know why you're here, am I right? Of course I'm right. Should I send for something to eat, drink? Yes, no, maybe? Ah, a tough crowd. All right, all right, I'll cut to the quick." The man talked fast, hardly waiting for any sort of reply or indication of an answer before beginning again to the next question. At his behest, the others sat down with trepidation, as if the couches would swallow them whole.

"Nirvana, I should really, _really _thank you. No, no, truly, I want to _thank _you so much. I mean, without you, I would still be under that incompetent relation of mine, and then where would I be? I'd still be at the bottom of the ring ladder, always hoping to get a little higher on the next mission. Without him, though, I managed... all of _this._" He made a grand sweeping motion to the arena outside.

"Nice, isn't it? It took me six weeks to build, a whole helluva lot of time. It was worth it, though. The family would've never let me have this thing until I'd proposed it to the Homunculi boards, and they said, 'eh, what the hell, why not?' They thought it'd be a good business practice, a way of exercising the slave companies and forcing competition. Handy, huh? I get money, they get a stable mini-economy going, and we all win," Kade stated with that false smile, and Ed bitterly thought back in retaliation, _"Yeah, everybody wins. Except the poor guys who end up in the arena." _

"So I decided, 'eh, why not reward some people, huh? Reward people who got you here.' Of course, you know, Nirvana helped me, and so did Uncle Don, but he ain't here at the moment, thanks to Nirvana over there. And I have dear old Dad up there in his high chair, y'know, and of course all those _slaves _who contribute," Kade said, and there was just a touch of mockery in his voice. Ed wanted nothing more than to smash his metal fist into that cardboard face. It'd make him feel better to see it crumple underneath his knuckles. There was a knock on the door, and Kade motioned it open. It whooshed with a clean, slick sound, and Phantasm walked into the room.

"Ah, there you are, Ingra, nice of you to finally join us. Aren't you a little late?" Kade asked. Though he asked in all politeness, there was a touch of annoyance in his voice. Ingra or Phantasm or whatever her name was looked conflicted for a moment as the robot caught sight of Nirvana. As she stood stock still in what seemed like shock, Ed could clearly see her insides. They were definitely wiring and electronic panels. It looked like this thing was basically made up of the same stuff automail was comprised of.

"I'm sure you two have met, haven't you?" Kade asked, not even bothering with waiting for an answer. Ingra looked at Nirvana, and Ed was worried for a moment that her head would start smoking. From here, he could see the fine details in the face. It wasn't _quite _right - there were muscles in this face that weren't present, so the right facial cues were missing, especially ones dealing with the eyes, like blinking, but it was a close approximation, close enough not to bother the humans in attendance.

"No. We haven't. I don't know her," Nirvana stated, staring into the construct's face. For a moment, the construct approximated a look of hurt, but it was gone so quickly, Ed almost thought he'd imagined it. Could automatons feel hurt?

"I am not sure that I have met this person either. You do know about my memory, sir," Ingra said, her voice electronically separating her words carefully and forming each vowel and consonant sound meticulously with the lips and tongue as well as a voice box inside of the throat. The result was a well-formed imitation of human speech, despite the strange, deliberate diction. The two studied each other, one with electric eyes and the other behind veiled glares.

"Hmmm, you sure? I remember talking to Ingra here, and she remembers you quite well, from our... chats. I took her off the streets, you know. Another friend of mine, uh, 'referred' me to her, after all. Decided I couldn't let a thing like that pass me up. Stripped her body down, implanted a few good multi-input jacks, uploaded some software into a mainframe, and here we are," Kade said, gesturing to Ingra. Nirvana frowned, her eyes asking questions her mouth refused to utter.

"She's still alive?" Zhang asked, spitting out the question that Nirvana didn't have the guts to say.

"Oh, yes, very alive. Of course, she's on bodily retirement at the moment, and she has been for a while, but hey, you know, with a body like _that, _why wouldn't you want to be, right?" Kade asked, smiling that salesman smile and gesticulating towards Ingra again. The woman-robot merely stood there, clearly uncomfortable, in body language if not in face. "Here, Ingra, go ahead and show them, why don't you? They're probably interested on what the rest of you looks like anyways, huh? I love to show off something of mine, after all. It's a failing."

This clearly took Ingra off guard. Her head snapped towards Kade, and she stared in question for a few moments before slowly raising a hand to point at herself. Kade stomped his foot angrily, though his face stayed the same, insanely happy countenance. Ingra immediately took off her tunic, leaving only her blue pants and undergarments. Kade's smile wavered slightly as she stood there in her bra and pants, but he seemed to let this slide. Ed felt embarrassed that he was in the same room as a half-dressed woman, and he wished he could hide his blush. Ingra seemed to notice, and for a moment he imagined he saw the same red rising to her cheeks, but of course this must've been an illusion. She was a robot. She didn't have blood to blush with.

Her body was pristine and cut well. She wasn't overly muscular, but she wasn't overly skinny either. She was a good proportion, and her skin was flawlessly smooth, other than the cuts she'd sustained from the fight. The rips and tears showed the metal beneath, most of those showing just scratches to the outer sheathing. However, the massive rent in her front had sliced open her bra, only hanging on by a wire through the bottom, and laid open her inner workings. Ed could see a bar code on her hip, and he unconsciously rubbed his forearm over his own bar code.

Her eyes suddenly swung over like search lights, catching his own gold eyes in her tractor beam stare. He felt as if he were being sucked into those immitation eyes. They were made of metal and glass, but for whatever reason they seemed to look so _real. _In that moment, he felt something pass through him. He wasn't sure what it was, and he knew that he probably wouldn't have a chance to find out.

"See? Look at that there! New tech, completely custom built for her specifics. She's going to change the way we fight, y'know. Why go out into battle yourself when you can just send out a robot with your specifics? I'm thinking about using her test different sized robots, see if I can use something that's not to her specific shape," Kade said, but Ed had tuned the man out. He was still staring at Ingra. It was as if she were trying to tell him something. He'd seen this look before, from another pair of inhuman yet compassionate set of eyes... Ingra began to put her shirt back on.

"And, I think I may use the rest of you, too, for some testing on that. Imagine that. I could have an entire line of warriors, all indestructible and easy to maintain! Of course, it'd be expensive, but wouldn't it be worth it? I could finance everything on that, along with the games. I'd be one of the most powerful men in Patron City!"

Ed reached the realization of why Kade had captured so many of them wholesale. Why not kill two birds with one stone? Why not go ahead and kill fifty birds with one stone? That was better, if not just as good. Suddenly Ed turned to run, smashing his fist into a guard's face, but he was brought down by a massive pain in his head, right at the temple. He stared up at Ingra, who'd moved at a lightning fast pace to knock him down. He stared at her as he was hauled back to where he'd been standing mere minutes before. He could see that the others had tried to run after coming to his same conclusion. They were going to be new test subjects, pawns to be used in a deadly game. The abomination that was Ingra would soon be their fate. They were a band of fighters - they'd make good entertainment, especially if pitted against each other.

"Hey, hey, trust me, this is better than the alternative. I know who you are, and I'm a lot more merciful than those down there. I'll keep your secret, don't worry," Kade chuckled as they were handcuffed and shackled. Nirvana fought loud and hard, screaming profanities before someone tagged her with a sedative. She sagged to her knees, her eyes disconcertingly still open and unconscious as they stared at the ground. Hohenheim had attempted to try alchemy, but before he could even bring his hands together, he found himself with an electric dart beeping in his chest. It released a massive shock, electricity nearly arching through his body. He dropped like a fly hit with a zapper. Thaddeus probably got the farthest, but Ingra took him down with a crushing knock to the chest. He lay wheezing quite a while.

Soon, they were all trussed up like animals to a slaughter. Kade surveyed his new assets with a critical eye. They would make good contenders for the games, especially that old man. He'd watched that old man fight off the sedative he'd used in the metro station, and he was tenacious. He'd make for a good, long fight. He stopped in front of Ed, the young man's face streaming with blood where he'd been hit. Kade tilted his head as he inspected the young, ornery man, and he took his chin in his hand, turning it from side to side as he surveyed him like meat at a market.

"I knew I picked well for this batch. Ingra, you'll take Edward to his chambers. Make sure he's fed. The one with the purple hair needs to have the dye denatured and she'll be a welfare gift to one of the Homunculi. You know any of them interested in a new slave?" Kade asked his assistants, and they were jolted for a moment by the sudden request.

"Uh, well, Greed is, uh, always looking for a new girl, as you know," a slim, dark-haired woman said. She folded her hands demurely in front of her and looked down. Kade nodded.

"Good, good." Ed locked eyes with Nirvana as Kade continued to prattle about his plans.

"The old man can be a contender for the games. And Nirvana... ohohoho, I have plans for her. I have lots of plans. She'll be mine, personally. I'm going to need her for a few things. She's our little secret, 'kay?" Kade said, looking at his assistants with a smile. They smiled back nervously, nodding. The guards hauled her to her feet.

Ed could see she wasn't completely gone in the eyes. She lifted her head up, and the look on her face was one of brittle rebellion and tired, scared frustration. The street rat had been caught. He could see her working at the shackles around her wrists, rubbing the skin raw on her flesh arm as she fought against her phobia of restraint. He'd reduce her to an animal in mere hours if he learned her weakness. She was smart enough to be subtle, and Ed handed her that. He stared at his own feet, realizing the hopelessness of their situation. Their transport left in only a few days. They had no idea how long they'd been out of it. For all they knew, the transport had left already, and they were stuck in the city with no help and no hope. They were behind enemy lines. Ed felt fear spike in his stomach, but practiced stubbornness pushed it down to a dull nub.

"The Xing one can go into the factory works underneath the game arena. He's small enough to be a tunnel worker," Kade stated. He eyed Thaddeus, the dark-haired man looking sick under the soft lighting. Kade tilted his head again, a gesture which Ed construed as contemplation.

"This one _could _go as a gift to the Homunculi as well, but he's a little too scrawny. They like them a little bit thicker than this," Kade wondered, and Ed scoffed. Thaddeus... he hoped that the man would be staying here. He was invaluable as a comrade. Medics were always in short supply, though there wasn't much he could do without any of his equipment.

"I'm a doctor, sir. You'd be better off with me here," Thaddeus said, looking over Kade's head. Kade contemplated it. Ed felt a pang of worry. Would he even take him, now that he'd spoken?

"Hmmm, big man to speak out loud. I think I'll keep him. I like 'em feisty... sometimes," Kade said, his ever present smile growing.

Ed suppressed the urge to exhale with relief. Though he knew that Nirvana would still be in the general vicinity, Ed took great comfort knowing Thaddeus would also be close by as well, probably close enough that they'd be allowed to either work together or see one another regularly. Zhang would be here, too, but Ed had a feeling he wasn't going to be seeing much of the emissary. Alice... He felt a deep rooted pain begin pushing a shoot of worry through him. Alice was going to a Homunculus, perhaps Greed. Luckily, Ed knew Greed, and he knew that if Alice was smart enough to get on his good side, which Ed believed she would, he would treat her well. He sincerely hoped that Greed was still the same homunculus Ed knew during the Battle for the Underground. Ed might end up fighting his own father, but his dad was tougher than rawhide and more stubborn than an old mule-nag. He'd survive, like he always did.

As Ed thought of each of his comrades in turn, he eyed every one of them, memorizing their faces for later reference. He wanted to know what they looked like, to be able to remember, if they... He cut off the thought. He felt a tension rise in him as he found faces he knew within these new faces he'd come to an acquaintance with. He could see a little of Ling in Zhang, and he could see some of Hawkeye's tenacity in Nirvana, and... His eyes passed over Ingra for a minute as his thoughts continued on that train at a lightning fast speed, and that's when he knew whose eyes hers had reminded him of.

They were Al's. Not literally - Al's eyes had been little more than spots behind his helmet, but these held that same look. It was one he'd seen plenty of times. It was the look of emptiness and soft, quiet despair. Their eyes suddenly locked. They stared at each other for quite a while, and Kade motioned for the entourage of prisoners to be moved. Ingra slowly blinked, probably the first time Ed had seen her do so, and the movement made her seem more human for some reason. Ed looked away, his eyes hard as he stared straight ahead. He could hear Alice crying softly to herself. Nirvana was muttering under her breath, either praying or cursing. Hohenheim was stalwart as Ed himself, and Thaddeus made no sound. They all knew they were going to fates that could possibly be worse than death. Still, they had to have hope.

Ingra stationed herself behind Ed, her hands soft, yet rigid, around the slim, electronic shackles that encircled his wrists. She waited for the entire group to move before urging Edward forwards. Ed noticed that they were lagging behind the rest of the group. He knew he was supposed to be separated from the rest of them, but was it that soon...?

"You are Edward Elric, yes?" Her words, despite being electronic and unnatural, held an organic lilt to them. Ed's eyes widened slightly. He attempted not to show his surprise. He didn't answer, only shrugged his shoulders forward and stared ahead.

"Fullmetal Alchemist? Alchemist of the People?" she dug, and Ed felt nostalgia wash over him. How long had it been since someone had called him Fullmetal? Unconsciously, he'd dipped his head to one side to better hear her, and she'd taken note of it. Ed cursed himself. That was a stupid move. He could've revealed himself to her with a move like that. He had to be more careful.

"We are rats stuck in the same maze, Edward Elric. We are the birds in the same, gilded cage. There is a difference between you and me, though," Ingra stated, her tone incredibly quiet and low in his ear. She was shorter than he was, and he had to strain to hear her. Ed refused to answer, not willing to incriminate himself or be in the league with someone who could be a hostile.

"You haven't had your wings clipped. And that is useful. You can help me." Ingra's tone suddenly changed. His gold eyes peered over his shoulder. Was this a ploy for sympathy? Was this a trick? Everything in this world was suspicious. He couldn't come away from anything without skepticism.

But staring into her eyes, he knew this was not a trick. "You are the only one who could understand this hurt. You are the only one who knows what it might be like to feel empty. Edward Elric, please think on -"

"Ingra! You're getting a little slow there! I know how you like shock on a timely schedule, so hup hup!" Kade's voice rang with its usual, very false cheeriness, and Ed felt Ingra flinch. Ed wondered what could make a girl who was essentially indestructible completely docile to a man's whims and flights of fancy. Somehow, he had a leash on her...

"And I think... I know your problem. And perhaps... if we have Nirvana... perhaps how to get you back home," she said, and Ed felt as if he'd been doused with ice water. She'd known who he was and... she knew his problem, but... how...? He turned to look at her, and her face was a mask. She could just as well be lying, but at the same time, she had figured out his secret in literally minutes.

Ed squeezes his eyes shut. His better judgment was screaming at him that he was an idiot, but there was some kernel of truth to her words. She may fight in sadistic games that pit two humans against each other, most of the time in the most unfair of ways, but he figured that she literally had no choice in the matter.

"We'll see what we can do," Ed muttered under his breath as they began to catch up to the others. As they caught each other's eye, they nodded infinitesimally. Ed felt something glow within him that he hadn't realized was dormant. It was approaching a warm sensation within his core, something he now knew had been dead.

He had hope.

* * *

He played with a toothpick, rubbing it between two fingers. He watched it roll, sighing. These games could get tedious sometimes. He could only watch so many fights before he got bored, after all. He was no stranger to human strife. He didn't understand the fixation the other Homunculi had on this activity. It was a waste of time, but he felt obligated to stay here and make sure his 'siblings' behaved.

Across a walkway at the bottom of the arena, there was activity. An elevator was being opened at the very top of the arena, and Greed looked up in bored fascination. Anything was better than watching the two monkeys down there tear out each other's throats. Greed leaned forward in his seat as he stared. He muttered something under his breath, and the Widget implant in his eye zoomed closer to the elevator. He could see an entourage of sorts going into the glass hallway that separated the rich quarter of the stadium from the riffraff. It was a speed corridor of sorts, meant to get the owner of the stadium up to his pentbox as fast as possible.

"Who're they?" Greed asked himself.

"Probably new slaves that Kade's just acquired. He likes to show off his toys before putting them away. Thinks it makes him feel big," one of his assistants answered without even bothering to look up from his touch-tablet. Even he was bored with the shenanigans going on below, and he was a human himself. Greed wasn't sure if that was supposed to be bothersome or not.

Greed zoomed in on them again, the Widget eye piece spinning frantically to accommodate the action. He frowned as he spied a rather... familiar head of blond hair. For freak's sake, his hair is covering his face! The way he walked and sort of impudently shrugged off his guards put Greed in mind of someone he'd known a long time ago, but... he couldn't put his finger on it. It was like trying to catch a sewer slug using bacon grease and a set of plastic gloves. Greed leaned back into his plush seat, sighing. He frowned as he watched them continue down the corridor -

There! He turned! Greed's eyes widened behind his trademark, round glasses. He felt like someone had sucked the air out of his mouth. He knew that face, but he couldn't figure out _where _he'd seen him. It was familiar, but at the same time it was like he'd never seen him before. He was getting bad dejavu, and it was making his head spin.

"Could you schedule an appointment with Kade? I want to talk to him about something," Greed muttered slowly to his assistant. The bored human popped his bubblegum before tapping a few things out on his touch-tablet.

"Done and done. Man, this is boring. They've done anti-grav tons of times. Can't they think of anything new to put in? Get some weather controls or something," the assistant grumbled as he leaned against a wall and played a fingergame.

Greed nodded absent-mindedly as he ran a hand through his hair.

* * *

**A/N:** Sadly enough, I had this chapter done a while ago. I've just been too lazy to publish it. Go ahead, draw and quarter me for my negligence, I won't mind. Sort of... Seeing as I'd be stretched out in four ways and then cut in half twice. Anywho.

For those on the reviewing page, a big thanks to Hikari Hellion, TailsMoon, Dashita Tichou, rainstripe, and SaphireWhiteWolf. Thanks for the input, especially with answering the discussion questions. I enjoy seeing what you guys put down as an answer. It helps me figure out what you like and what you don't without all the hassle of shooting in the dark.

On the submitting side of things, we have two new members to join our ranks! Welcome, Charox Jarkai and DuzellVisalia. What interesting names you both have. The meanings behind them are a subject for contemplation...

And finally, my pack of favoriteers. We have three new people on that list (Ha! Take that, Team Submit! This is totally not a ploy to start a membership war), those being Zaphod Prefect, Daninuyasha, and, once again, Charox Jarkai. So does the Zaphod in Zaphod Prefect refer to Hitchhiker's Guide? And does the Inuyasha in the second name actually relate to the character Inuyasha? And I have no idea what to make of the third.

Ah, discussion. Well, you guys _did _say you'd like to see canon character incorporated, so I decided 'hey, why not? I'm smart - I can figure out a time paradox.' The big kicker is, I have to keep these characters, well, _in character. _This is a catch-all discussion question for any of the chapters, and that's if I've been keeping the characters in line with their personalities or if I've derailed them off into the land of the OOCs. Another question: how long do you think this story is going to be? Also: what do you think is a good chapter length? I end up exceeding 5,000 words pretty much every chapter. I want to know 'how long is too long'. And then, finally, what, so far in, has been your favorite part of the entire series?

Well, ciao! I have some other stories to write!

God bless, and good reading!


	22. Hope

"He looks dangerous." Cory was skeptical. The teenager Kade had brought in not thirty minutes ago sulked behind the glass door of his prison. His skin was very lightly tanned, and his hair was honey-blonde and uncharacteristically long. He must be a foreigner. No wonder Kade had kidnapped him - foreigners weren't cheap, especially the light haired kind. To find one just walking around was pretty fortuitous, especially with the slave's owner nearby.

"He'll make a _lot _of money, though," Cory's assistant, Barns, said as he flipped through a pulp magazine. Cory sniffed with disdain at Barns' lack of enthusiasm or interest for anything. The man was a miserable lump when it wasn't payday. Cory was amazed he could even get the man to do anything other than read about the lives of successful celebrities and their dermal fixes, money troubles, or relationship statuses. Cory's _wife _wasn't this bad.

"Yes, but keeping him controlled once -"

"That won't be a problem. You thought the same thing of Ingra didn't you?" Cory winced. He _had _thought that of Ingra, but of course Kade had a solution for everything. Ever since he'd started the Colosseum three years ago, Kade had shown himself to have a contingency plan for every eventuality. It made Cory wonder sometimes if the man had a seer on his side, just for the purpose of foreseeing problems. He'd heard that they could be grown, nowadays, specially from government vats, and if you had enough dough... Regardless of speculation, the point still stood that Kade's methods of control were watertight.

"I... Yeah, I did, but..." Cory looked into the prison. The inhabitant was pacing now, unable to keep still. _Teenagers, _Cory thought with a touch of derision and awe. He had three of his own, all boys, all bottomless pits that needed feeding. Most days, Cory couldn't stand them, but it was better that they grow up rich brats who'll go out in the world to make more rich brats than end up here where this kid was.

"It'll be fine. Don't worry about it." Easy for him to say. He's not the department head. When it came to crunch time, his head wasn't on the altar piece. Cory sighed and sat down heavily.

They'd received this project nearly two years ago. It had been a good project, too, a solid one with blueprints and everything. Cory had been hired after the fact, but from what the last batch of guys had said, apparently it was an easy process as long as the subject was treated with care. Cory had joined more out of curiosity than actual money, seeing as he was making three times more at the cybernetics company designing automail than fitting out these lowbrows with expensive machinery when they broke down. Crowd favorites went to him, mostly. The Puppeteer Project had been a fresh idea, and when Cory had asked where they'd gotten it everyone had given him the look that said 'you don't want to know and you don't need to know either.'

Now the subject in the prison was sitting on the floor with his back to the door. Cory frowned, wondering what it was he was doing. He knocked on the door, disconcerted by the stillness of the occupant. If there was something he knew about teenagers, it was that they didn't know the meaning of 'still.' To see a teenager actually _still _was... odd.

"Hey. Exercise a bit. You've got enough cage for a walk," Cory said, and the subject turned a head slightly as if listening to him. The boy ignored him and went right back to staring at the wall. Cory was suddenly worried. What if the boy's mind had broken? Some of them ended up like that. Or what if he was planning something (as out of place and futile a thing as that was)? Cory ran a hand through his thinning hair, a few strands coming off his scalp as he pulled his fingers through. The city was slowly killing him and he knew it. Everyone had cancer these days - even the people who didn't know they had cancer had cancer. Cory would need another dose of chemo soon. Man, he hated taking radiation tablets... If the cancer didn't kill him, the chemo would. That, or make him bald. He wasn't sure which was worse.

Cory took one last glance at his row of white, pristine prisons. All of them were empty save for the one with the blonde teenager. One day, these would all be filled. The ramifications were so disturbing, Cory pushed it out of mind with a practiced mental shove. Best not to think of what would happen in that case. Better to just move on with his head down and his nose clean. The haggard little man began to walk out as another person walked in, electronic chills wafting to him as he passed by another of his Frankensteins.

* * *

Ed stared at the wall, chemical formulas and circles racing through his mind as he tried to find some crack in this place's impregnable armor. He was getting out of here. If he could, he'd take the others with him.

And then he thought about Ingra's proposal, that they work together. Ed could think of a myriad of ways to get himself out of this pit, but after that he'd be lost. Nevertheless, he still wasn't absolutely sure he could trust the human-driven automaton.

Almost as if on cue, the door behind him whooshed open. Ed stood with his automail arm up in a guard position, ready to ram the person into the door and create a situation (the more difficult he became, the less they'd want to keep him), but Ingra was already in her own fighting stance. From outside, the bored technician with the magazine looked up apathetically before going back to his article. The two stood like that for several more minutes.

"I told you. I only want to help you," Ingra said in painstakingly enunciated speech. The electronic whir of her voice box grated on his ears. He was all too aware that she wasn't human, yet in her eyes he could see that spark he was so familiar with. It was hard to read with her robotic face, but he could intuitively tell she was desperate. Ingra straightened out of her fighting stance, leaving herself wide open for attack. Ed knew better - she moved faster than she let on. He narrowed his eyes before reluctantly stepping out of his fighting stance.

"You told me that you know about my situation," Ed said carefully. He was going to assume there were cameras and microphones. Amestris had always tried to be the pinnacle of technology, and they'd had mics buried in the walls even before this grand age of advancement. Ingra was quiet, and she looked up at the ceiling. She suddenly touched the wall, and a shower of sparks came from a small, black dot in the ceiling. Ed looked up at it, and he barked a laugh.

"You can't be serious," Ed muttered, trying to get a glimpse of the camera. That dot was really...? Ingra sat down on the floor stiffly, her joints and muscles obviously not used to moving in a slow, deliberate manner. Ed followed suit.

"They will notice that the camera is off soon. They will send maintenance. The camera's footage has been erased. If they ask, there was a shortage. Tell them there were sparks," Ingra instructed, and Ed logged the information away in his cabinet file of a brain. Ed looked over her shoulder at the man reading the magazine, and he was pleased to see that the technician still hadn't looked up. Good. If all of them were that lazy, getting out would be easy.

"Please do not think of escape so early. You will only draw attention," Ingra said, guessing Ed's intentions. Ed's eyes flickered over her face, disconcerted by the lack of movement. He cheekily leaned his chin into his hand as he rested his elbow on his knee.

"And why not? I might as well. Maybe that means someone will be willing to get me out of here," Ed stated. Suddenly, Ed was struck with a thought.

The deadline! The planes were leaving! Or had they already left? There was no telling how long they'd been unconscious in that glass box. He kept a lid on his thoughts, though. No use getting worried over nothing. He had to keep his mind on the present. And, in the present, Ingra was watching him with much scrutiny. Suddenly, she said, "Perhaps you should begin escape attempts. That will create diversions. It is what they expect." She had yet to lay out any plans or any of her ideas, and Ed was getting impatient. He drummed his metal fingers against his leg.

"What's the plan?" Ingra looked taken aback momentarily, a break in the monotony. She blinked several times, perhaps out of habit than deliberately to appear human, and she slowly said in halting language," I... have not thought... of a plan." Ed groaned, rolling his eyes and palming his face. Of course. The one link he had out of this place, and she didn't have an inkling of what they were doing.

"First, we need to figure out where all my friends are. Then, we need to figure out where everyone in this place is at all times. Third, we create a diversion and shut everything down. Fourth, we get everyone out as fast as possible," Ed said, outlining the simplest of escape plans he could think of. Ingra considered this.

"I can find out everything for you. We can talk during sparring matches," she said. Ed frowned.

"Sparring matches?" Ingra became a statue.

"We have matches in the arena. They are not like the Death Matches. They are mere spars that stop after first blood. People can bet on First Blood sparring," Ingra explained. Ed nodded, an idea slowly forming in his head. That would definitely be helpful. If they kept getting paired up, they could pass information to each other.

There was a knock on the glass. They both turned to look at the attendant who'd been reading the magazine. He pointed to his wrist, and Ingra stood up. Ed watched her leave, and he felt a slow hollowness build in his chest. She looked back at him, and the humanness in her eyes caught him off guard. There was a small edge of hope as she blinked and stated, "Please, do not disappoint me." Ed watched her leave with a steely expression. The minute she was gone, he sat back down and began his calculations.

* * *

The sparring matches were less brutal than he'd anticipated. He easily won four within an hour. Most of the fighters were scanty, scrawny, and untrained. A lot of them were only just teenagers, and Ed realized that most adults fought in the Death Matches. The First Blood matches took up a time slot of seven minutes each, all of them taking place in between separate Death Matches. The day he'd been captured was an anomaly. There usually was only one Death Match per day, according to a few of the slaves he'd fought, and rarely were there two in a row.

Ed was met with cheers as he stepped on to the arena again, lifted high on a platform. To his surprise, Nirvana stood on the other end, clad in a strange mix of metal and leather armor. He scoffed and asked, "What, are you a Viking or something?" She looked oddly ridiculous. Her hair was frizzy, and her eyes were smudged with dark shadows, obviously from sleepless nights. She didn't look so good.

"Hey, it was this or a chain mail bikini. I'll take looking like an idiot over looking like a blonde bimbo," Nirvana muttered. A horn rang, and the two of them began their spar. Ed had been equipped with a long staff while Nirvana had use of a mace. It wasn't a bad combination. They could fight as long as they needed to, or at least until their seven minute slot was over. The crowd cheered, and Ed almost didn't hear Nirvana say, "Put me in a headlock." She suddenly left herself wide open for attack, and Ed did just that, careful to only appear to be choking her.

"They're here," she whispered in his ear before suddenly flipping him on his back. Ed let himself be thrown over, careful to land in a way that would do minimal damage.

"Who?" he asked as he bounced back to his feet, gold eyes flashing towards the crowds around. There were several Homunculi in the stands, using their penthouse boxes like shells to encapsulate silence and prestige. He hoped that these Homunculi weren't overly familiar with him. It suddenly dawned on him that these may be the very same Homunculi he'd helped to kill in the Battle for the Underground, and his gut seemed to freeze at the thought. _They knew who he was...?_

"Our team. I can see them in the stands. Somehow they found us," Nirvana said, swinging her mace in front of his face. He dodged backwards, swatting the mace away with the end of this staff. Ed felt a bit of adrenaline course through his system as he realized that perhaps, just perhaps, they might get some outside help. Ed dropped to his knees and spun his staff over his head, smacking Nirvana's hand. Their seven minutes were almost up.

"FIRST BLOOD." The screen overhead blared the winner, Ed Silverhand (and he sniffed in distaste at the stage name), as Nirvana rubbed a bleeding, bruised finger. Ed stood up, and he crossed his arms. The crowd bayed for more blood, but Edward wasn't intent on giving them what they thirsted for. He was lowered from the platform, and an attendant slave handed him a towel. He rubbed his face, trying to piece everything together.

Somehow, there had to be a way to get everyone in touch and on the same page. He knew that the slaves within the building had some sort of internal code with which they passed messages to each other. If he could just somehow correlate everyone's movements...

"Ed. Hey, Ed, come here. You need a check-up, and Kade hates it when his best performers end up with bruises. They don't exactly fill people with confidence," a familiar voice stated. Ed looked up, surprised. It'd been a while since he'd heard Thaddeus's voice. The illegal doctor was working the medical bay of the arena. That, of course, wasn't much of a surprise.

Much like the rest of Patron City, space was a commodity due to the Abyss that halted the city's expansion, so most of the arena was split into bays that were further split into rooms about four feet by seven feet. A narrow walkway only a yard across ran between the rooms of each bay, and the effect was claustrophobic, even more so than the barracks in the Oasis bunker. Thaddeus was stationed in Sick Bay 7 in the fourth cubicle. Already, batches of patched up slaves were being moved out, and Edward stepped inside with a feeling of trepidation. It didn't help that he hated needles; the suffocating environment only made his paranoia worse.

Thaddeus was dressed like the rest of the enslaved doctors, in a stark white ensemble that clashed with the surroundings. He'd been allowed to keep his long, curly black hair to cover the massive scar running down the back of his neck. Apparently, the slaves were not above blackmail. Even Ed knew that someone with a scar like that was going to face some major trouble. In the cubicle next to the doctor was a low table. The walls were covered in a large assortment of futuristic (and painful looking) instruments and medicines on massive racks.

"Guess what? I saw my family here," Ed cautioned, hoping that Thaddeus would catch the gist. It would sound fairly innocuous, coming from him - after all, Ed was blonde and most thought that his family was probably some rich, Eyrie-stationed dynasty who'd let one little son stray too far. Thaddeus, however, would understand what 'family' exactly meant.

"Huh, are we talking Al, or..."

"No, the other half." There was a period of silence. Ed was not used to coming up with codes and allusions on the fly. He and Al had come up with an entire array of code words for things, built up over the years of traveling together and watching out for each other. To do so with a stranger was... disconcerting, especially with allusions that he may not get. Ed didn't want to convey the wrong message.

Ed had had this idea stirring in his brain for a while to get a message out to Thaddeus, just a general one about a jailbreak. Most everyone came through the medical bay at some point, and Thaddeus was the perfect go-between. The new development, though, had him scrambling for this one opportunity. There was no other reason for them to be here other than to break them all out.

But Ed had decided some time ago he didn't want to break _just _themselves out. He wanted _everybody _out. If at all possible. He couldn't just leave them here.

"Huh, never met them before. Maybe you should try meeting up with them, arrange a meeting. They'll do that, you know, the guys upstairs," Thaddeus said, jerking a thumb at the ceiling. Ed chuckled darkly as Thaddeus started to treat him.

"I don't know, we don't look much alike. Don't think much alike, either," Ed muttered. Suddenly, there was a knock on the wall, and Ed sat up as Thaddeus turned. A grease-smeared Zhang was hovering in the doorway with a nervous energy.

"Uh... they want Ed and I. Like... now," Zhang said, his voice a little unsteady. Ed looked at Thaddeus, who shrugged. The blonde left with Zhang, unsure.

"Be sure to tell everyone. I might throw a surprise party for getting out. Everybody's invited," Ed added with a slight smirk before leaving with Zhang. In his cubicle, Thaddeus chewed this over for a few moments.

And he could only shake his head and chuckle.

* * *

Ed knew it was bad the minute they took a turn towards the boxes near the bottom of the arena. Sweat built up in the small of his back, and he could see Zhang trying to hide his shaking hands in his loose pockets. Ed felt the tattoo on his arm itch like fire, aggravated by his anxiety and flush of adrenalin. He could only guess one thing about their summons to a box seat.

The Homunculi knew who they were. This was the end of the line.

"Anything happens, cut and run," Ed muttered under his breath. The two guards ensuring their compliance shoved Ed forward.

"Enough chitchat. I don't like keeping Homunculi waiting," the man said gruffly, an undercurrent of worry swimming through his voice. Ed rubbed his shoulder and stared belligerently. This all but confirmed his suspicions. Ed and Zhang continued going forwards, overly aware of the sword hanging above both their heads on a single, spiderweb-thin tether.

"Been nice knowing you, bud," Zhang said thankfully, summoning a brave smile.

"But hey, it'll make for a fine bar story, huh?" Ed muttered. They both shared a look, and the blonde cracked his own sardonic grin. They entered the box, knowing that, somehow, they were brothers with this simple exchange. Either they were coming out together, or not at all.

They were set on their knees before a single throne of black and red wood, _actual _wood at that, and the two awaited what they knew must surely be their demise. The guards left, the dim lighting making their absence that much more noticeable.

"OHMIGOSH YOU'RE HERE!" The two nearly jumped out of their skin as a familiar brown, purple, and indigo blur suddenly tackled Ed and Zhang to the floor. The two of them, needless to say, were shocked into silence. Ed was the first to suddenly start laughing and return the sudden, enthusiastic hug that Alice had given them. Zhang followed suit, hanging on a bit tighter than he'd probably meant to. Ed caught his eye, and Zhang shrugged sheepishly. They broke apart, and Ed asked, "Alice what... are you _doing _here? I thought you were supposed to be -"

"- with the Homunculi? Yeah, well, you see... turns out that not all of the Homunculi are baby-eating monsters. Greed's at least pretty chill about his slaves and all that," Alice said. Actually, now that he could get a good look at her, Ed noticed that she was in much better shape than the last time he'd seen her. They'd only been at the arena for a few days, two tops, and already it looked as if Alice was in tip-top shape. Her face was just _this _much fuller, her eyes were brighter, and she had that effervescing liveliness to her that was so characteristic. Zhang gave a hearty chuckle.

"Well, good to know, but that doesn't explain why we're here."

Suddenly, the lightens brightened, and Alice jumped to her feet. Ed's eyes widened as someone came into the box, looking bored and nonchalant while still maintaining an obtrusively dangerous air. His heart just about skipped a beat, and not in the least romantic way. He felt as if he'd just been shoved into a freezer. He knew the Homunculi were still around, and he recalled Greed being mentioned, but he'd thought that the Homunculi would be... different.

That was obviously not the case.

Greed stared at the two and stated, "Well, you're here because Alice wanted to see you bozos. I tried to pull a few strings to get the rest your little contingency, but it would've looked a little suspicious. At least with just you two strapping lads, I can make it look like I'm just purchasing you." The two fell into a tense silence as they stared at the Homunculi. Ed could see that very little had changed about the undead construct's appearance in the interim he'd been away. The man was still hatchet-faced with that slightly predatory look, spiked back hair, and, of course, his signature sunglasses and fur-trimmed vest. He deftly removed a cigarette from his pocket, and he lit it carelessly.

Ed could feel himself simmering. The last time he'd seen Greed, he was still trapped in Ling's body somewhere. Obviously, Father had managed to... extract him. He wasn't sure if Ling would have survived that encounter, or if Greed's memories had come away in tact. Nevertheless, there was no love lost between Ed and the wayward Homunculi. At best, they'd been begrudging allies. At worst... well, kidnapping Ed's brother had not put Greed anywhere in Ed's good book.

"What do you want with us?" Ed asked blatantly, and Greed's eyebrows rose. He shrugged.

"I was curious, that was all. It's not every day I get a flash of such powerful deja vu. I thought you were someone I knew. I'm correct, yeah, but I still can't seem to remember your name," Greed stated around his cigarette, dripping expensive ash on the carpet. Zhang shifted nervously, and Ed stood up, not willing to back down. He crossed his arms, and Greed appraised him from only three feet away. He suddenly gave a bark of a laugh.

"You look like the freaking patron of the city," Greed noted, removing his cigarette. "Save for the arm and the leg, of course, but... just about the spitting image, definitely."

"Was that all you wanted us for? Curiosity?" Ed asked. Greed rolled his cigarette between his fingers, letting his mind wander as it went back and forth. He looked up and said, "Pft. Why not? I'm a Homunculi. I can have just about anything in this city I want. I just ask for it." Ed's look turned calculating as he suddenly gave a rather smug smile.

"Yeah... except you're still under Father's thumb, aren't you?" Greed's eyes didn't betray anything, remaining stony, but his lip did twitch ever so slightly at the word 'father'. Ed knew he'd hit a chord. He had guessed by now that Father was more of a mythical, 'scary ghost story' type entity in this city. A shadow-lord, an uncertain threat, a being shaky in its reality. But Ed... he knew that Father was real. He knew for certain. And the Homunculi did, too.

Zhang let his eyes flicker between the two, each standing resolute. There weren't many people in the city that could stand like Ed could. He wasn't like those of the Underground, with their hunched, hunted look. He wasn't like the Aboveground either, with their careless air and bored countenances, slouched and without purpose. Ed stood as if he were some bygone hero of old, a mythical Sage, a Romantic era king going to take back a throne_. _Shoulders thrown back, feet planted firmly on the ground, back ramrod straight, and a glare deeper than the Abyss.

"You bring up a fair point," Greed said, his wolfish smile suddenly springing across his mouth. "You're a smart cookie, aren'tcha?" Ed didn't budge, his fists bunching tighter. He turned to Alice, and he said, "I came here to negotiate terms. You've done pretty well so far. Can you convince these knuckle heads?" Alice snapped a salute, and she stated cheekily, "Aye, aye, cap'n!"

"Then get on it, Gilligan." Alice blinked in confusion, cocking her head to the side like a rather confused puppy. Ed chuckled and waved a hand.

"It's an old reference, Al." Greed gave him a small, torn look before resuming his usually aloof persona. He crossed his arms and stated, "While she's talking with Squinty over there -"

"Hey!"

"- I need to talk to you. Alone." Ed stared at the ground, contemplating the proposition. Finally, he nodded. If there was anything about Greed Ed could count on, it was the fact the Homunculi had a single constant - well, that being greed, quite obviously. Ling had managed to impress him with his own avarice, and the majority of those against Father had managed to work with him well enough. Perhaps that part of him was buried. It was obvious Greed had no memories of Edward. Those were probably purged the minute that Ling and Greed had separated. Ed felt a pang as he thought about the squinty-eyed fellow. It was almost a given that he'd died. Surviving such an encounter was incredibly slim.

Not that it mattered any longer. After all, if anything, he was two hundred years dead. That wasn't to say that it didn't hurt, though. His death wouldn't have been pleasant, nor quick.

Greed led him towards the throne, and a sheet of obsidian seemed to fall in between both pairs of negotiators. Ed watched with a plummeting stomach, his metal hand immediately crunching into a fist. If Greed tried anything -

However, this didn't seem to be the case. Greed sat down in his throne, crossing his legs over one of the arms of the chair languidly. Ed chose just to stand with one hip cocked, his arms crossed. He'd beaten him once before.

Centuries ago, of course, but he'd still beat him regardless.

"Let me give you this straight and black - there's only so much one entity can take, and I've been around since Patron City was founded in 1957. Kid, you know how long that is? That's almost two hundred years. And for what? So I can putter around as Father's dog? I don't think so," Greed said, pointing the end of his cigarette at Ed. The younger man knew where this was going. Greed was, well, greedy. Power hungry, materialistic, and, oddly enough, very much a people person. In fact, Ed was pretty sure Greed was the only homunculi to actually interact people in anything coming close to a normal way.

"You want help, don't you? You want to take down Father," Ed muttered. Greed leaned forwards, swinging his legs off the chair arm.

"Smacked it right on the nose. Got that right. I'm not dumb enough to do it on my own, and I'm definitely not stupid enough to ask any of the other Homunculi that Father's got wrapped around his pinkie finger. And I know you've got contacts for some little resistance, so don't give me that innocent baby face. You always do," Greed said. He stopped for a minute, thinking about that statement, Ed looking at him expectantly.

"We've met before haven't we?" Greed asked, gesturing with open palms. Ed bit his lip as he tried to decide whether this would work to his advantage or not. He didn't have to answer. Greed flung off the question with a wave of the hand, and he stated, "Not important. What do you say to it, pal? Shake?" He extended a hand. Ed stared at the outstretched hand, noting the Ouroborus on the back. It had been so long since he'd encountered any of their kind... or so it seemed. He looked into Greed's eyes, noting the keen luster, that sharp intellect calculating.

You had to give up something wanted for something you wanted more. It wasn't a concept Greed was familiar with, but Ed definitely understood. Besides, he didn't have much choice.

"Fine." They shook.

"So, first things first, let's figure out how to get you out of here..."

* * *

Hohenheim had been enjoying a rather nice nap when he was woken up by a rather loud rapping on his metal door. His cubicle was a small space about ten feet long, three feet high, and three feet wide, and the metal door's vibrations seemed to shake the entire thing. It rung like a bell! Hohenheim winced as he jammed a finger in his ear, as if to dislodge the pain manually.

"Alright, alright, no need to get noise about it, I'm coming," Hohenheim grunted as he slowly managed to turn himself around. This cramped little pod didn't exactly give him much range of movement, and his age definitely wasn't helping. After nearly four hundred years, things start to break down after all. He groaned as he moved the small sliding door that served as a sort of 'peephole'.

His eyebrows rose as he eyed the blank face of the woman who'd fought in the arena against The Grace Stroke, Ingra. She was the last person he'd expected to see. He asked, "Yes? Was there something you wanted?" Ingra looked mildly uncomfortable, and Hohenheim noted this. Despite the fact she was an automaton, she was still fundamentally human on the inside. In this way, she brought Alphonse to mind, and Hohenheim felt a deep pang. His son had died, gratefully, a smooth death, free of pain. Hohenheim couldn't have hoped for a better son. Tearing his wandering mind off the memory of his late offspring, he focused on the young woman.

In her unnatural diction, Ingra stated, "Your son, Edward, has given me a message. Be prepared. It appears that... there is hope." Hohenheim blinked in surprise. There was... hope? What was that supposed to -

Escape. That was the only thing it could mean. Ed was planning an _escape already, _that little, stubborn, wonderful, amazing boy... He narrowed his eyes, and he asked, "How do I know that you're giving me reliable information." A dumb question to ask, but it never hurt to be straightforward. The woman's facial expression changed ever so slightly into one that Hohenheim didn't easily recognize on such an immobile face - amusement.

"His exact words were 'you had better get your ugly, old keister ready to haul out the minute the going gets rough or else we will leave you here to rot like the dirty old man you are.' I believe that was his message, as far as I can remember," Ingra stated, and it was not hard to imagine that a slight hint of playfulness was just under the surface. The more Hohenheim got to know her, the more he was beginning to think she was more human than anybody gave her credit for. Hohenheim nodded.

"Was that all?" Ingra looked at him blankly before suddenly adding, "Tell the others, if you can. I believe they have a tapping system. They change it often." She turned on a heel, and with that she was gone. The other slumbering slaves twitched and flinched in their sleep as she passed by, as if her cold, electric countenance could touch them even in their dreams. Hohenheim sat back in his cubicle as well as he could, and he thought about this proposition.

_Edward, I hope you know what you're doing..._

* * *

__**A/N:** Sheesh, it's been a REALLY long time since I've written a chapter. I have to say, I am _really really _sorry for my clumsy writing - I seriously never noticed just how bad my writing and plot weaving was until I actually read the story over again and noticed all the errors. Hopefully, this simple chapter makes up for some of it. I hate that I did that. I've been getting back into the swing of this story, and hopefully this chapter reflects that. I hope to keep things going smoothly, and I may or may not be reviving old stories that have gone into discontinuation due to an influx of creativity.

To my reviewers, salvage1, Hikari Hellion (loyal reviewer, you), and Dashita Tichou, thank you for the encouragement and input. I love what you guys have to say about the story, especially the bits you like and the bits you think need improving. Keep up the good work!

I have four new subscribers! Muchos gracias to salvage1, ilikeoctopus, Radioactive Tiger, and Clear As Myst for adding this story to their Alerts. It's greatly appreciated!

And finally, my favoriteer team, which now has six newcomers! Welcome Senator-X, salvage1, kalsemiko, Knakx, Clear As Myst, and Asia The Jester. Personally, thank you.

I've also realized that it's probably a little embarrassing to have your name plastered up here, so I'm thinking about just naming the reviewers while leaving off the subscribers and favoriteers (or at least, the names - I want you guys recognized, too!). So give me what you think, and I'll see what I can do.

God bless you, and keep reading.


	23. Jailbreak

The crowds cheered as the death match wound towards its foregone conclusion, hoping to speed along the process towards an inevitable win on one side or the other. The slaves were well-matched, not at all like that fight with Clorick. This time, Cloud-Eye and Spore were fighting, both of them big, strapping slaves that had worked on the loading pads. Greed watched from his personal box, chewing on the end of a toothpick. At his side, his aide played with his tablet while Alice, his newest slave, tried to do anything but watch the fight going on below.

"When should we do it?" Alice asked.

The plan hadn't been very set. They'd tried their best to get the word out to all the slaves of a potential breakout without giving out any more information. Greed had engineered a rather convenient little space of time for Zhang to lead Alice into the belly of the arena in order to get to the Master Server Room where Alice could manually shut down and destroy all the electronic security details. If all went according to plan, Ed would find Thaddeus and a few of the leaders among the slaves to quickly begin storming the armories, overpowering the guards, and shorting out all slave tats. After that, they'd be home free. Greed could easily pick Ed up in the chaos, hiding him, while Zhang, Thaddeus, Alice, Nirvana, and Hohenheim (another name that sounded so familiar - yet he could never place where he'd heard it) contacted the team that was allegedly within the arena so they could help create diversions.

The plan had guidelines more than anything. If they put it any more set in stone, they'd lose their ability to improvise should the situation call for it. The only real instructions Greed had given Ed was to head for the armories of the building where things would be thickest. For now, they'd have to bide their time. They'd resisted setting a time at all just in case it leaked out.

"I was thinking about noon or so," Greed said nonchalantly, picking his teeth. He'd just finished a plate of vat-grown chicken, and he had to say that it was fairly disgusting. Still, he wasn't one to say no to free food. Alice had wolfed it down, to no surprise. It was like the kid had been starved for days. Honestly, Greed wouldn't be surprised if she had. The capacity that humans possessed for torture and degradation always managed to reach new heights, and Greed knew they still had not reached the pinnacle they could achieve in causing pain. If he hadn't been a Homunculi, Greed would've probably considered humans a very real threat.

"Really? But that's in the next thirty minutes," Alice huffed, tucking her knees up under her chin and gripping her toes with the tips of her fingers. She was perfectly content to sit on the floor near his feet, and for a moment Greed felt another wave of nostalgia. For some reason, Alice sort of triggered those bursts of reminiscence in him as well. It wasn't so much her personality as her build and that facial structure which brought back vague, incandescent memories he couldn't quite grasp.

"Oh, boohoo. Ed can wait another thirty minutes, can't he?"

* * *

"LET GO OF ME, YOU SLIMY DEMONS!" Ed was hauled from his cell like a cat out its carrier when it _knows _it's going to the veterinarian. They'd sprayed him with a mild sedative, but that still didn't stop him from flailing, kicking, screaming, biting, and punching, though not necessarily all in that order. Ingra supervised the goings-on with a mild look of indifference as Edward was bound to a dolly. Kade smiled hungrily, and he said, "Good news, Eddie my boy. Looks like I've got the materials for my little project. You get to go Auto early!"

"What does that even mean?" Ed mumbled, his words slightly slurred. It looked like that sedative was finally taking effect. That was good.

"It means you get to have that brain of yours jacked in to a fully automated body, and I get to use you over. And over. And over. And over," Kade said quietly, a proud smile on his plastic face. Ed's eyes realized what was going to happen to him, and he renewed his struggles. A few times, he almost came completely free, but the five aides attempting to hold him there continued to force him back on to the dolly. Kade looked over at Ingra, and he said, "Make sure everything goes according to plan. If he dies, kill Cory. He just wasted a perfectly good specimen, and he doesn't deserve to live. In the case of that event, send his head to his wife, too, would you? Oh, and use his severance check to buy me another fighter and a new toaster. My last one broke." Ingra seemed a little slow on reacting.

"Um... Yes, sir," Ingra stated, looking down at the floor, her face still monotone as she listened to Ed fight against the restraints holding him back. He was getting weaker. The sedative was kicking in. Soon he'd be asleep, and the plan would fail...

No. The plan wouldn't fail. Even without Ed, it must go on. They were all just cogs in the machine. This escape was just another machine, and he was just another cog. They could operate without him.

"Huh, you sounded a little bit hesitant there, Ingra. Could you repeat that?" Kade asked, glancing at his primly done fingernails, all of them perfectly trimmed to the point of falsity. His voice was carelessly calm, but Ingra knew what was on his mind. Despite the fact she was not inhabiting a physical body, the phantom sensation of sweat cooling her palms and mid back disoriented her and belied her flat composure. He would take shock away from her. He would leave her to suffer without it, to be eaten alive by cravings.

"Yes, sir. It will be done," Ingra stated tonelessly, each word carefully formed by strands of electronic muscle. Kade nodded, walking past Edward. As he went, a globule of spit hit him in the face, and Kade stopped. His cheek jumped, and his perfect smile faltered. Edward only stared at him with a slightly smug look, though he knew exactly what was coming at him.

"Take him away, boys, and don't bother being gentle about it," Kade ordered as he wiped the spit from his face. They began to leave, and Ingra followed behind, watching Kade go as they started towards the labs on the next floor of the arena. She turned again to face Edward, who was strangely calm now, an effect she guessed had to do with the sedative. She opened her mouth as if to say something to him, but he was stolidly staring at the ceiling. She tentatively followed them as they wheeled him away.

"They're going to make me like you, aren't they? Stuff me into some mechanical body and leave the rest of me to rot," Edward said, his words quiet and sullen, though crisp, and only audible to Ingra with her finely tuned ears. His eyes were beginning to droop, and through his eyelashes he stared at Ingra, her passive face filling his vision.

"Yes. They are."

"It's hell, isn't it?"

"...Yes. It is."

"Glad to know that some things don't change."

Ingra looked away, knowing who he was referencing. She was no stranger to the story of Alphonse Elric, a near-cult figure in some parts of the Underground, and even good portions of the Aboveground were sympathetic to his story. Her knowledge of the younger brother bordered on obsession after her imprisonment. In knowing Alphonse, she had come to know Edward as well, despite the efforts of the city officials to suppress the Elric brothers' story. And now, it seemed poetic justice that Edward would be victim to the same condition that had befallen his younger brother.

The operation room was sterile and cold. Goose flesh dotted Edward's skin as he eyed the room underneath hooded lids. There were so many different items, all of them deadly-looking and clean. Most of them were much too sharp for Ed's liking, and he mentally sighed. What was it with all the sharp things, and every single person and their grandma wanting to cut him into pieces? This was worse than Rush Valley and all those automail tech-heads!

Ingra closed the door, and the plan Ed had formed within his mind suddenly took on a less hopeful cast. If Ingra was against him, he was really going to have to fight, and he wasn't even sure if she'd follow orders or go against them, or, for that matter, if she was able to in the first place. Though he hadn't breathed a whole lot of that sedative, he was still a little groggy. He had no doubt that Ingra would definitely have a leg up on him. The other two bozos wouldn't be much to handle - wait, what was with those needles? And what was with that table in the middle of the room with all those straps and... oh, well, he certainly hadn't planned on _that..._

It looked like his plan was going to have to be shunted forwards up the timeline a little bit. If they were going to do to him what he thought they were going to, he had best get a move on before _they stick those needles in places they don't belong. _

"We'll give him a bit of a heavier sedative, make it a bit easier on him," the head man said, eyeing banks of machines as Edward was stuck with a variety of electrodes. He glanced at the row of needles on their tray with trepidation as Ingra stood by the door.

"He has to be awake, though. We need to be sure the upload is complete into the new body, and I'd hate waking him up over again for a cognitive test," another guy said nonchalantly. Edward began to work his wrists and arms slowly, noting the location of each intern scattered across the room. Once he had the restraints fairly loose, he was able to get a hand into his pants pocket.

_"Okay, Lesson One- never forget your Sharpie. It writes on virtually anything." _He'd been lucky that they were relatively easy to get. After losing his first one, he hadn't bothered to get another one, but Greed had been more than happy to give him a mini that he'd gotten off one of his assistants. His last meeting stuck with him in his head as he started to draw on the dolly he was strapped to.

_"You shouldn't believe everything you hear. Rumors are a vicious thing, y'know? Ever play 'Xingese telephone'?" _The subject had been, tellingly, alchemy and the changes made to the chemical composition to most everything around Patron City, emergency information in case they were in a really sticky situation. Ed had stored the tidbit away for further use, and he hoped that his assumption was correct. Either way he was screwed, so he might as well try.

"Start prepping him. The aerosol should've done it's work by now."

"You sure? He still looks pretty awake to me."

"Come on, Crofton, you're sticking him in the arm. It's not like he's going to make the dolly eat you or something." One of the interns, wearing scrubs and a mask, came over to Ed, swabbing his flesh arm. Ed looked straight into the guy's face and admitted, "I'm going to be honest, I really hate needles." The guy's eyes darted towards Ed's obviously lucid stare, and he hesitated.

And then, all hell broke loose.

* * *

"Shouldn't we have gotten the signal by now?" Zhang asked. He sat in the medical bay, sporting a fake gash on his arm that he'd made using some old candle wax and red food dye he'd gotten from the local filcher. Thaddeus scratched his growth of beard with a worried look. After receiving Ed's message, he'd spread the word as well as he could among the network of slaves, and it looked like a good majority of them had the idea. Still, Thaddeus had no clue what Ed was planning or if he had a plan. From what he knew of the guy, he was a pretty rash person.

"I don't know. I really don't. Ed didn't tell me anything besides the fact there'd be a breakout. You know more than I do," Thaddeus admitted, pacing back and forth. Outside, the death match continued. There was due to be another one soon, right at noon, with a 'special contender' as it were. Slaves weren't allowed to watch the proceedings. There was too much of a chance that something could go wrong or a riot would break out. Suddenly a runner came into the hallway, his red arm band beeping to show he had a legitimate message to courier. Because of the signal jamming, the entire complex denied Widget and other commies to be used within the premises, and all messages were relayed through couriers. Kade used his own feed for the entire arena, using up an entire band on his own.

"I have a message for a guy named Zhang. He here? Some guys told me he was," the courier said, a young kid hardly older than twelve. Thaddeus nodded, and he said, "Deliver your message." The kid nodded, and he slipped off the blinking armband. He handed it over to Zhang, and the Xingese emissary put down his fingerprint on the red light. It flashed briefly before matching with another fingerprint on its database, and the message opened. Zhang's eyes widened as he read the short message, and he nodded to Thaddeus.

"Here ya go, kid. And take this with you," Zhang said, handing the twelve-year-old a credit chip. The kid's gap-toothed smile had enough wattage to light up the stadium for weeks.

"Thanks, mister!" With that, the kid ran off with his newly emptied armband for the next message, a little hope following him. Zhang felt a pang as he realized that the mayhem soon to come would probably kill the kid. He sincerely hoped that could be avoided and that the little guy got out. A sprig of doubt flowered within, and Zhang wondered if what they were doing was right. Some of the slaves actually had... semi-lives, but lives nonetheless here... Thaddeus put a hand on Zhang's shoulder, and the Xingese emissary looked at him darkly.

"Come on. Al's waiting for you," Thad said with a slight smile, and Zhang sheepishly slipped off the medical bench. He gave a salute and wink to the medic, and with that he was gone. Thaddeus watched him go, wondering what sort of mess they'd gotten themselves into now.

* * *

"Are you sure they're here?" Georgia breathed, trying to see through the press of people. Getting tickets into the arena had been a nightmare. She'd practically had to sign up as a... fairly unsavory female entertainer... to get the money for them to enter, and now that they were here, they were lost on what they were going to do to get the other half of their team out of the stadium. Kojak loomed over most of the others, weaving back and forth to get a better vantage point. They were in the nosebleed section, and the best they could make of the contestants were of the four massive screens above the actual arena itself displaying camera shots of each contestant in a play by play style.

"I definitely saw Ed yesterday, and Nirvana was one of the First Blood Match contenders. They're here," Richie stated. The young man had been roaring to do something ever since getting to Patron City. His usefulness was in mechanics, and he'd been the one making the money they used by running a 'repair shop' of sorts. It was more of a square of street he covered with a tarp and used to fix large and small things, but it was still fairly lucrative, getting enough for them to buy their food and stay in their hotel.

The chance to finally do something a little more tangible had supercharged him. He was ready to go in, guns ready, after the blonde alchemist and his fellow teammates, and it was only Kojak's gentle chastisement that they'd managed to calm him down enough to think things through. Farther away, Grayson stood with Guun as they surveyed the fighting. Georgia had originally mandated that Grayson stay behind due to his deteriorating mental health, but that proved even more detrimental than letting him watch the fights. Georgia remembered the very moment that Grayson had seen the fighting, noting that 'A-ha!' look on his face, that stare of rapt interest and fascination. It was unnatural. He was not in the least perturbed by the dying, the blood, the screams.

It had taken her a while to understand that, underneath his fluffy outer layer, Grayson was conditioned to the point where death no longer affected him. He had seen so many people die and suffer that he was desensitized. No one in Oasis would ever understand: they had never seen true war, not the war that he had fought as a rat in the lion's den. He had hidden it very, _very _well.

"This is just sick," Georgia muttered under her breath as she watched the death match wind down. This was the second one today. The first had lasted a good twelve minutes. This one was heading towards thirty minutes. The bigger opponent had seemed to have the advantage, but the other, smaller slave now had the upper hand and a second wind. The underdog might actually win after all.

"Panem et circenses. Bread and circuses. That's why they let it go on. Entertainment, food, blood - it feeds every human desire while sacrificing the one human need: their souls," Kojak answered back, his face saddened as he watched. The smaller slave suddenly disappeared into the trees (the arena was forested this time) before dropping down on top of the bigger slave and lopping off his head. It wasn't a clean swipe; ligaments caught on the blade, and the bigger man still had time to scream as the smaller slave continued to hack away at his opponent's neck. The crowd went absolutely insane. Everyone stood up to cheer, scream, throw food, and raise up a bloodthirsty call. The Oasis team stood up more to blend in than any actual enthusiasm. In fact, Richie looked sick.

"UNDERSHADOW IS VICTORIOUS" the childish, crude sign painted on the screens screamed at the audience as they bayed for another round. To the astonishment of much of the audience, another round did come, a _third _death match. A raw feeling filled Georgia, a settling in her gut that seemed to weigh it down to her feet. Kojak seemed to have the same expression, if his ashen complexion had anything to say.

"The games begin," the announcer's cool voice stated. "This round will be a standoff in a maze environment between Sirius Intrast and The Metal Maiden."

The first to step out was Sirius, a thin wiry man that was very obviously on some sort of drug, perhaps shock or Instant. His eyes were bloody, shot through with near-bulging veins while he salivated visibly, every single muscle tensed until they stood out like cords of electric tension cables. He let out a loud howl to the audience, and his fans bayed back. This was a man who _enjoyed _his occupation. It was evident the way he prowled on his side of the arena. Suddenly a figure appeared, crouching and drawing a circle in the dirt with the end of a metal stick, standing with their face hooded against the crowd. A massive maze rose up out of the ground like magic sand, coalescing into twisting, turning walls. It was obvious who now had the advantage in this fight.

"Wait... that's alchemy," Richie stated, and Georgia rubbed her chin in thought. She'd have to think on that later. The figure stood up straight from her crouched position on the ground, and she threw back the hood. Her hair was bound back away from her face, showing large green eyes flecked with gold. Her heart-shaped face was pleasant enough, despite the number of scratches and bruises. One arm was completely silver, as was one entire leg. She was dressed in chainmail, the picture of an old-world huntress. Every part of her seemed to glitter, and she stood with a pride (or was it cockiness?) that few managed.

Nirvana stepped onto the arena, ready to take on a bloodthirsty man in exchange for her life.

* * *

"How long have we got?" Zhang asked as he crawled along the passage way. He was just barely big enough to fit, and he was already smeared with grease.

Alice, behind him, looked at her commie, and she relayed, "Maybe ten more minutes before the next match. We've got time." They continued to crawl up until they heard the sounds of gears turning. Zhang stopped, and he looked back.

"I thought you said ten minutes."

"I did say ten minutes. They aren't supposed to change the arena until then!" Alice said, panicking a little as she realized what was going to happen. What if her clock was late, and the gears were changing the entire thing _now..._? Zhang suddenly reached back and hauled Alice into his own space, shielding her as hydraulics worked to move massive pieces of the floor to create a new setting for the next battle. However, unlike what he'd thought, the gears didn't shift around to roll over them. Rather, the gears circled so that the old platform was to the outer edges. Zhang looked up, surprised to find that he hadn't been pureed.

"I... think we're good," Zhang breathed.

Alice muffled, "Good. You can let go of me now."

Zhang realized he was practically on top of Alice, and he abruptly started climbing forward.

"We're almost there."

* * *

"Don't you think that was a tad unnecessary?" Ingra asked tonelessly as she looked at the large pile of bodies on the floor. All of them were in various levels of disarray and unconsciousness, some of them groaning while others were out cold. She kicked one of the more lively fellows, and he quickly went back to lying still. Edward dusted his hands off as if he'd done sort of dirty deed, and he grinned almost maniacally.

"You should've seen the sort of crap I pulled on terrorists," Ed stated. Ingra cocked her head in confusion, and Ed deflated. Of course. Terrorists apparently didn't exist any more. It was hard to imagine such a thing.

"We should probably get going. They'll figure out pretty soon that I've gone and taken out Dr. Doom here, and we'll all be fried," Edward stated, walking towards the doorway. Edward walked through, and suddenly the lights dimmed. He frowned, looking at the lights.

"That's... not normal, is it?" Ed asked, his gut sinking. He'd told them to cause mechanical havoc, not completely shut the place down!

"Edward... Edward!" The blonde spun around to face Ingra, the woman now on her knees. She was holding herself as if she'd fall apart, and despite her machine body, Ed could easily imagine sweat and tremors going through her as she stared at the floor. Her short hair swung past her face in an unnatural fashion as she calmly stated, "They must be taking down the arena's various jamming nodes and re-installing the bandwidths." Ed stared in confusion, knowing that this was a terrible time to be asking about why rubber bands and jam had anything to do with the fact that his partner-in-crime-at-the-moment was on the floor looking like she was suffering the precursor to a seizure.

"O...kay? And?" Realizing that Edward had no idea what she was talking about, Ingra looked up at Ed in a painfully slow manner.

"They are messing with the signals that allow me to remotely control this body. If I do not upload back into my body correctly, my soul may be trapped within this shell. I... am a conglomeration of the research that was done on your brother prior to his transformation back into a human being and remote-controlled automail robotics. I am able to download my soul into various shells, in theory, but... I must upload back to the original or I will be stranded," Ingra explained as Edward helped her to her feet. Several of her electronic muscles were given to violet spasms, some of them so rough as to bump the coverings underneath and burst through the fake skin. Her body was overloading.

"I guess this means we have to get you back to your original body, huh?" Ed asked, and Ingra seemed uncertain.

"I... should be fine when the signals are reset. My body's signal band is supposed to be in flux in order to avoid this problem, but the flux program has never been tested. I do not think that function is currently operable," Ingra sighed, at least as well as she could without lungs. Ed was still confused, but he decided that the basic gist was that her body was rejecting the soul as well as whatever else she was using to control the body from afar.

"Still, better safe than sorry," Ed said as they began out the door. Ingra suddenly dug her heels into the floor.

"Edward, you need to get out of here. The plan must proceed. Soon, the slaves and prisoners will riot, and you must take that chance. There will not be another," Ingra vehemently demanded. Edward stared her in the eye, and he suddenly scooped her into a bride carry before trotting down the hall, despite her squirming protests.

"I'm not going to leave you here! And trust me, when I have something in mind, I don't go back on it," Edward retorted. For some reason, abandoning Ingra left a bad taste in his mouth. Perhaps it was her similarity to his brother. Ed would've never backed off if it had been his brother protesting against Edward finding a way to save him. In fact, Al had done just that and he'd given him the what-for. Ingra, however, was much more vocal about being manhandled.

"Would you quick squirming and tell me where your stupid body is?" Ed complained. Ingra was _very _heavy despite her size. His automail shoulder was having trouble keeping up with the punishment it was getting. The lights went out again, and Ingra suddenly fell limp. Ed halted for a moment, praying that the lights would flicker back on. However, Ingra came back online almost immediately, resuming her fit of fighting against Edward's grip.

"Put me down! This wasn't how the plan was supposed to work! I am just a cog in -"

"UGH! SHUT YOUR YAP ALREADY," Edward demanded as he suddenly threw her on the ground. Though Edward couldn't see her, he was sure she was stunned in silence by her lack of retort. He automatically regretted dumping her on the ground so roughly, but he was partly worried his port would break and he partly felt justified for committing such an ungentlemanly act.

"I'm not going to leave you to rot here. That would make me no better than the rest of the scum bags out there," Edward demanded, almost stomping his foot childishly to get across his point. Ingra was silent for a few more moments before she took his hand, leading it to a loop at her belt. Ed, who hadn't been expecting that at all, was shocked by just how cool Ingra was. Her skin was obviously false, feeling like an odd, stretchy plastic, and he hung on to her belt loop as she began to navigate the halls.

"There is no persuading you, is there?" Ingra asked. Edward scoffed.

"You can bet your life on that," Ed stated cockily.

"I am."

There was a silence as Ed thought about these words. He slowly sobered as he realized that he was now taking over some responsibility for Ingra's life. She was fully aware of this as well, it seemed. She was a strange individual, to say the least.

The sounds of mayhem began to penetrate the walls of the labs. Right below them were the slave quarters, so it was no surprise. The lights were still out, and Edward was having trouble adjusting to the complete darkness of the facility. Ingra, however, had no such problems, and she kept going assuredly. Finally, they reached a door.

"How are they keeping you alive? Your body can't be receiving nutrients and exercise if you're like this, and I don't take it that they let you out for a morning run," Ed asked as Ingra forced the door open. Ed's eyes registered the glow of light panels and brightly lit displays. The room, however, was dark otherwise. Ingra's artificial face glowed under the bank of lights as she crept in, and Edward gaped in awe of the number of buttons, charts, screens, and switches to be had in that one room. All of this, just to keep up with a single individual...

"They have been streamlining the life support systems and the computing required for them. Most of the modules you see in here are for redundancy - if something breaks, there is another part to replace it immediately," Ingra explained as she headed towards a large cylinder on one wall of the room not covered by electronic equipment. She suddenly tapped the cylinder, and Ed cursed in surprise as the cylinder went from opaque gray to a clear glass. Inside, a body was sitting on the floor of the cylinder, a large assembly of ports running along its spine into a large bundle of cords that snaked into the back wall. The body was hairless and covered in some sort of plastic film. It took Edward a moment to realize that this was Ingra's real body.

"This... is you?" Ed asked breathlessly as he edged forwards toward the tank, pointing at the inert form just barely visible in the dim glow of the room's many lights. Ingra nodded wordlessly. She began to tap on the glass, Ed watching over her shoulder as she gave the tank commands. Several different charts flowed across the glass as if it were a computer screen, and Ed asked, "What do you need me to do?"

Ingra looked at him uncertainly for a moment before all of a sudden half the room's computer banks failed. Ingra's eyes widened.

"No," she whispered, as all the lights succumbed to the contagious darkness in one fell swoop. Ed was plunged into black as he heard Ingra's body fall against the floor with a dull _thump! _

* * *

"No no no no no, that was not what I wanted!" Alice shrieked to herself as she began to rifle through her little pouch of USB drives. She'd plugged in a custom virus, but it had reacted in ways she had not expected. Zhang was busy fighting off several goons, shooting at them with a pitifully tiny gun they'd found in one of the desks. The power center of the basement had twenty different servers, and it had taken Alice a good fifteen minutes to figure out what was the right one, and now she'd uploaded the wrong virus to the system. They'd switched off the mains power, but they were still working on getting the rest of the security out of the way. The slaves up above were rioting, with Thaddeus playing speed chess using the slaves as his pawns while trying to ferry as many people out as possible past security.

Alice had hoped to get done within the next five minutes so they could take the stairs back to Greed near the armory, but it was apparent that was no longer an option after security personnel burst through the staircase doors. Zhang had taken out two of them before they got smart and backed off.

"What's the matter? Why aren't we going yet?!" Zhang screamed from the door as he smashed another goon's head into the door jamb. A small spindly man with body modifications suddenly zoomed into the room on backward knees and fleet feet. Zhang neatly shot him in the back fifteen feet from Alice. The young hacker screamed as her feet were splattered, and she whined, "You couldn't have done that a little neater?! I just got these shoes too..."

"You didn't answer my question," Zhang complained through clenched teeth as he stood by the door with the gun cocked. He was running out of slugs. He only had three rubber bullets and two shock shells to use. Alice bit her lip.

"I installed a program to wreak havoc on their jamming signals, their communications, and emergency security functions for all of the different slave blocks, but it's hitting other things, too, like locking up the entire place tight. There must be some sort of security back up within the security server in order to head off this sort of thing. Man, these guys think of _everything,_" Alice seethed as she looked at the small laptop that she'd taken from the desk to use as progress screen. So far, she was making little progress, and they still hadn't figured out how to get the doors open. Soon, it would be a slaughterfest up above them.

"Well, no time like the present, chop chop," Zhang sighed as he peeked his head out the door.

* * *

Nirvana stood as still as possible within the maze. The arena had been sealed off the minute the lights had gone off. It was running on its own backup of power, and the arena was still live. Though there were riots outside the arena in the stands as slaves fought to get out with the rest of the spectators, no one had bothered to mess with the arena at all. She bit her lip as she heard footsteps. Her stupid chainmail itched and the fake fur they had trimmed the collar with kept scratching her. She kept her complaints to herself, though.

Suddenly, the sounds of footsteps escalated, and Nirvana a circle in the dirt with a single fingernail as fast as she could manage. Just like that, another wall appeared, and the sound of a body smashing into it satisfactorily met her ears. She smirked and asked, "So, had enough yet?"

"Hehehehehe..." Nirvana frowned as she realize that the sound had come from _behind _rather than _ahead. _She whirled around in time to miss getting skewered by a long spear, and she parried with her own metal bar.

"I'm -" THWACK!

"Not-" THWACK!

"STUPID." THWACK!

Sirius advanced forward like a tsunami, finally backing Nirvana against the wall. The young alphysicist found herself literally between a rock and a hard place as the man jammed the spear against her throat, choking her against the wall.

"My pretty, I'm going to stand here and watch every minute of you turning blue, and that pretty tongue swelling out of your mouth, and your eyes bugging out of your head..." Sirius drooled as Nirvana ineffectually tried to smack him with her bar. It was like hitting a brick wall. The man was too high or too psychotic to notice it. Very abruptly the man's eyes widened before slumping against Nirvana, and she fell against the wall with him in her lap, a neat patch burnt into the back of his head from a tranq round. There was only one person she knew who could fire a tranq round that well from any distance, and she looked up towards the stands to see Georgia standing triumphantly on top of a box with a gun in her hands. It was only Nirvana's diligence that caught sight of her - she disappeared into the crowds milling on top of the boxes in their haste to get out of the arena, and Nirvana shivered.

She actually owed the PMS Queen's lap dog. Go figure.

Nirvana climbed on top of the wall with slight difficulty, wondering how she was going to get out. The arena was incredibly tall, and windows lined the upper edges for the rich families who wanted a front row seat. The glass boxes near the top of the arena walls itself, besides Kade's personal box. Ohohoho, she was going to get Kade, if it was the last thing she did. Nirvana cracked her knuckles. It looked like it was time to put all those alphysics principles she'd been working on to good use.

* * *

"We making any progress?" Kojak asked over the din. He'd joined up with Thaddeus and Hohenheim, who'd come heading a giant horde of slaves all raring to get out, and now they were rendezvousing with Georgia who was still trying to track Nirvana.

"A little. Zhang and Alice are still working on the barriers, but it looks each one has it's own server dedicated to it separate from the main servers under the ground. Our slaves are still trying to hack through them, at least those that are computer literate," Thaddeus said, grunting as he suddenly smacked a hysterical spectator with his shock prod. The man dropped to the ground like a sack of dead fish, and Thaddeus threw him to a slave who was putting the audience members into a more organized group.

"What now? Most of the Homunculi weren't here today, luckily, or else we'd have hell on our hands," Georgia stated, drawing a bead on a particularly nasty looking guard who was beginning to work his way through hysterical spectators from one of the lower levels of the arena. He suddenly went down in a net as several slaves entrapped him. She put down the gun, just as Thaddeus replied.

"I have no idea. Ed didn't give me the plan. There was too much of a chance that there'd be a crack down if they knew where it originated from. We were just lucky that Ed got backing from somebody," Thaddeus grunted as he suddenly jabbed a running, scared-out-of-his-wits spectator in the middle of the back with his prod, immediately dropping him to the ground. He handed him off as well.

"Well, we'd better come up with a plan soon. How many of those doors are open?" Georgia asked. She'd wondered if there were any sort of underground exits or entrances, but the slaves already had that covered with the bay doors that opened to the street. They were shut as tight as the rest of the building. Suddenly, a vast light shone from below, and a dot vaulted down towards the three in a huge arc. Georgia's eyes widened as she realized who it was -

_CRASH!_

Nirvana sat amid a pile of decimated seats, looking a little dazed, as she suddenly croaked, "And she sticks the landing!" They helped her out of the wreckage, noting that she'd managed to slow herself down enough to only get a broken pinkie finger, and she immediately started towards the entrances.

"Where are you going?! We need you here to help defend!" Georgia shouted angrily. Nirvana scoffed.

"Obviously, there's not going to be much to defend if we don't get out."

"The doors are shut fast. We can't get through," Thaddeus complained, his eyes looking left and right warily. Nirvana shrugged, already beginning to walk towards the exits.

"Well, if you ain't got a door, make your own," she stated. Georgia frowned, looking at Kojak, and he could only shrug.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry that it's taken so long for me to actually write another chapter. What with school and everything, finding the time to write is like looking for a needle in a rather small haystack. However, this story will continue to be ongoing. I hope to have a new chapter every month, and I apologize that the story is so erratic in terms of scheduling.

Now, for the recognition section! I am so glad that so many people were happy that the story's back! You people give me the confidence I really need to keep writing. Especial big thanks for pointing out the plothole, Skirt2819, as well as telling me just how much you enjoyed the fic. To Envyyyyy, I'll try and keep those chapters coming in! And I thank salvage1 for their enthusiasm. Keep at those fics - trust me, every bit adds just that much experience; just don't forget to take advice from others, and good advice at that. To answer darkravensnight's question, you'll just have to find out, now won't you? :) Thank you, thank you, thank you for your reviews! Keep 'em coming!

As for new subscribers, I now have uiramatos, Kage Getsuga, Envyyyyy, and DEmpress, as well as Skirt2819 in my ever-growing list. Now that's what I like to see!

In my veritable Favoriteer army, we now have several people joining our ranks: say hello to Kok0roxGuardian, CandyCayne, kylefisher200, DEmpress, and Skirt2819! Eeeexcelleeeent. My plan is coming to fruition!... Whatever my plan happens to be, considering even I don't know what that is, haha.

Now, for discussion questions: _Do you think the story is split up between too many different points of view? Are you enjoying the different perspectives of each character? Do you wish there were more canon characters in the story? Do you think the characters are well-rounded? What do you make of Ed's current predicament? Is Ed still fairly in-character (given the fact that I am allowed some leeway - this is the future, here)? Is there too much action, or is the plot dragging? Do you think the actual focus and goal of the story (that is, goal of the protags) has changed significantly? How has it changed? What other devices do you think could be used in the future? What did you think was striking or emotionally profound?_

Well, that's all folks. God bless, and good reading!


	24. Down

The banks of computers flickered on as Ed transmuted a line of phosphorus onto the ground. It glowed dimly, and Ed was unhappy with the results. He could hardly see anything like this! The computers suddenly came back online, and Ingra flailed to life like a puppet yanked by her strings under the control of a two year old. Ed sat the automaton up against the glass tube containing the inert body as the robotic shell continued to spasm uncontrollably. She was trying to point past him, but Edward had no idea what she might be pointing at, she was jerking so much.

However, Ed could guess when he saw another alcove that was big enough for a person that had another set of jacks. He quickly picked up Ingra, and he hauled her over to the alcove, sitting in her a strange sort of chair made of strings of fiber, almost like a cradle.

"Th-th-th-the p-p-p-port-t-ts in-n-n -" Her words were so convoluted that Edward couldn't understand a thing she said.

"I think I can figure this out on my own," he assured her as he reached for the port running back into the wall. It couldn't be that hard... right? Sort of like plugging in a lamp.

Hopefully.

Edward fought to keep her still as he reached around the back of her neck, searching with his flesh fingers for the port that had to be somewhere on her spine. He realized he'd found it when Ingra suddenly loose a high-pitched whimper, jerking an elbow and knocking him in the gut. He winced as he tried to keep his fingers over the port in her midback, and he wondered just what type of automail these people used considering that was one heck of a jab.

Just as Edward managed to reach the complementary port plug-in on the inside of the alcove, he heard footsteps down the hall. He suppressed the urge to cuss as loud as he was able, and he continued working. This always seemed to happen at the worst of times! It was like God was constantly thumbing his nose at him! Not that God mattered, considering Ed didn't _believe _in a God, but nevertheless the feeling still stood.

"Hang on just a second, I've almost got it," Ed grunted as he pressed against her, trying to hold her still as his fingers continued to try and plug her into the system. The minute he managed to shove the corresponding end into her midback, she ceased her flailing, and Ed unexpectedly collapsed forward as she fell back into the cradle. He quickly extricated himself from her, holding his hands up as if some old biddy were about to rush in and scream at him for impropriety. He took several deep breaths, trying to get his wind back, before looking at a large central screen. Considering it was the biggest screen in the room, he was going to take an educated guess and say that this was the main control panel.

There was a stylized image of a woman with a line connecting her to another stylized woman of a different color. Ed frowned as he read the instructions, which, thank whatever higher powers there were, seemed to be in plain English and actually pretty easy to follow. Who would've thought that they'd make things so easy? Maybe people were just stupider in this day and age...

_Welcome to the ALchemical Soul Exchange!  
_

_Step 1: Choose the participants in the AL Soul Exchange. Remember that the first person chosen will be the recipient of the soul, and the second person will be the donor. _

_Step 2: Drain the pseudo-amniotic fluid from the womb chamber before commencing download and transfer of soul.  
_

_Step 3: After all fluid has left the chamber, begin the transfer by pressing TRANSFER. The AL Soul Exchange will commence immediately afterwards. Note: the exchange may produce steam. Do not be alarmed if the tube fills with steam. This is normal. The steam will melt off the false-placenta surrounding the recipient.  
_

_Step 4: The recipient must be disengaged from the system immediately after transfer to reduce the chance of port infection or damage, as they will be disoriented and may try to walk out of the tube without unplugging themselves.  
_

_Step 5: Sit the recipient down and attempt to calm the recipient. Congratulations! You have successfully used the AL Soul Exchange program and device!  
_

Ed wondered where, exactly, was the keyboard until he realized that this must be a touch screen, like his Widget and the last communications device he'd just broken. Ed sighed. He'd neglected to tell the Rockbell twins, but his automail was not friends at all with delicate glass things such as touch screens. He had to be very careful when using his right hand to touch the stupid things, or else he'd crack the glass. Luckily this needed only one hand.

As he dragged his fingers over the instructions, little stylized graphics played out the instructions. How... quaint. And frankly, a little disturbing. Something as dark and heavy as a soul transfer should _not _be taught by small, cute blue-and-orange characters running across a white field. Still, the instructions were fairly easy, and it looked like someone had automated the whole thing to run itself. The wonders of technology, at its best.

He scratched the back of his head, taking a deep breath, and he managed to figure out how to drag-and-drop a picture of 'Ingra' and a picture of the body in the other tank into the slots given at the bottom. In the lights of the computers, his face shone with sweat as he noticed that the temperature of the building seemed to have hiked up. He really hoped that no one had the bright idea to start a fire. He could fix almost anything with alchemy, but fire was just unruly.

He continued through the instructions, finally reaching the step with the TRANSFER button. He tapped it with bated breath, and there was a sudden sound of whooshing as the entire room went dark.

"Crap!" Ed shouted, stamping his foot childishly. Almost by magic, the room lit up again as if at his behest, and he crossed his arms petulantly.

_That's what I thought,_ Ed grumbled to himself as the transfer took place. The massive amount of energy must've drained the room for a second in order to initiate the sequence. Just as the instructions had warned, the entire tube to Ed's left began to fill with steam, and he tapped his foot, reaching for his watch habitually until he realized that he no longer had it.

For the love of -! He needed that thing too! How many times were people going to take things that weren't theirs?! Ed sighed to himself, rubbing the bridge of his nose. That was his last link to home. He couldn't bear to lose it. Just thinking about it practically put him in a panic. He'd forgotten about that until just now, and he couldn't believe he had. He'd stayed here too long, obviously.

The tube suddenly dinged like an egg timer, and the entire chamber opened as a sliding door recessed back into the wall. There was a lot of coughing and gasping, and Edward carefully forged his way through the steam to -

Ed has a habit of rushing into situations without fully thinking about the ramifications of said predicaments, though he always did manage to get out of them one way or another. This was another such occasion. It was only just as he crossed the threshold into the chamber that he remembered the fact that the girl who'd been in the tank had been, more or less, um... unclothed.

A wet, solid body smacked into Ed just as he was about to pinwheel backwards, and Ed tried to catch the falling body that was flailing and slipping all over the place. The steam, thankfully, was thick enough to obscure anything that Ed would've been able to see, but his _hands _could definitely tell that all that separated him from Ingra's true body happened to be his clothes. Ed thought that blood was about to leak out of his ears, it was rushing so fast into his face.

"_Sit, please!" _Ed hastily ordered, adding the 'please' rather haphazardly. Ingra seemed to at least be somewhat coherent; she did as he asked, collapsing on the ground with a _whump. _She was breathing heavily, gasping. Edward knelt next to her, and he asked, "Are you... okay?"

He had an idea of what went into soul transfer, and Edward hated to think of the sacrifice it must've taken to switch her soul back and forth. Something told him that there were things particularly in reserve _just _to send her in between each time... He shuddered at the thought.

"I... am okay," she answered, and Ed was surprised to find that her voice was very different from the mechanical diction of the voicebox in her automaton counterpart. Her voice was a melodic contralto, and if Ed hadn't known any better he would've thought she was a boy at first. However, she did have a slight accent, one he felt was familiar. Zhang's was incredibly similar, as well as Guun's. As the steam cleared, Ed wasn't surprised to find that she had Xingese features -

Ed realized that if the steam had cleared enough to see her face, he could see the _rest _of her as well, and he immediately slapped a hand over his eyes and turned on a heel to face the opposite wall.

"Um... what are you doing?" she asked.

"What am I - you're naked as the day you were born! Of course I'm not going to look!"

"What, not like you've never seen a woman naked."

An awkward silence reigned supreme.

"You've never seen a woman naked?"

"It's not considered socially acceptable from my time period, thank you very much. Now put on some clothes!"

From behind him, Edward could hear the sounds of feet pattering out of the tube and onto the concrete of the computer lab. Edward suddenly felt a spike of curiosity hit him, and he half-turned -

No! That was rude and inappropriate! Not to mention, if Granny Pinako were there, she would've run him over with that old truck of hers ten times over for even thinking such a thing! The feeling sent him reeling into a small bout of depression, and in that moment he lapsed in concentration as he suddenly felt a tear slip from his eyelid. He wiped it away, sniffling a little as he tried to regain his composure, when he realized that there were footsteps again towards the room.

"In here! I heard something!" Ed let his shoulders droop as his eyes became tired half-circles.

"Crap," he muttered to himself. "Why is it always one thing on top of a-"

The door suddenly came down, and Ed whirled on a heel, running out of the tube and clapping his hands. He quickly dragged his hands against the concrete floor as two goons, security personnel of Kade's, managed to step across the threshold. The two goons groaned in resignation. They'd already had to try and sidestep another blonde alchemist with a beard that had managed to cream their fellow compatriots, and they didn't look forward to having to take down this one. If Kade found out they were slacking, though...

Ed dusted his hands triumphantly at the concrete wall he'd shored up, and he looked at Ingra.

"Not a bad job, eh - I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO PUT ON CLOTHES?!"

The girl, who hardly came up to Ed's shoulder, was dressed in underwear and still struggling with the bra. To Ed's surprise, he found that she was completely bald, giving her a strange, nearly alien look. She raised a single, non-existent eyebrow, and she drawled, "I'll gladly do that if you'll hook this stupid thing. I hate bras that clip in the back."

This was most _definitely _not his area of expertise. What sort of girl asks a guy to clip her bra? _Why were people in this time period so shameless?! _One day, he'd seen Nirvana wandering around in her underwear all over the warehouse they'd been living in! True, it was her house, but that was just ridiculous. And when he'd kicked up a fuss, she said she usually just walked around in the nude!

Turning his eyes to the ceiling, Edward quickly fumbled with the stupid clip, trying to ignore that it was getting awfully hot in the little room, that he was currently in a dangerous situation, and that his fingers couldn't seem to work together for anything. After what seemed like a torture-filled eternity, Ed asked, "_Now _will you stick something on?"

Ingra seemed amused. Quietly playful, she took her sweet time riffling through the closet for a shirt, putting on a pair of pants, and grabbing a few weapons while Ed stood there, tapping his foot impatiently. When she reappeared from the closet, fully clothed, bald, and weaponized to the teeth, Ed stared with narrowed eyes petulantly.

"Are you ready now, or do you have to go and wash your hair too?" he asked pointedly, staring at the very obvious lack of hair on her head. She gave him a rather deadpan look. She gave him a once-over, and Ed furiously blushed again. Did she _have _to be that blatant?

Thankfully, the look didn't seem to denote attraction.

"Are you going to wait for you to hit your growth spurt, or are we going to get out of here?" she asked, just as flat-toned. The sudden change in humor struck Ed as strange, despite his sudden ire at her none-too-gentle jab at his height. Before he could think very long on this (or come up with a snappy comeback), there was a deafening noise on the other side of Ed's concrete wall, and the two shared a serious look. Without a word, Ed followed Ingra through a door in the side of the room that was disguised as a computer bank.

"Where are we going?" Ed asked quietly, carefully mapping out the route in his mind. He had a good portion of the facility memorized. It was never a bad idea to know exactly where you are.

"The lion's den. Kade has an entire network through the facility. He's incredibly paranoid. Hopefully, he hasn't come out of his hide-y hole, or else we're in big trouble. His personal quarters are incredibly well guarded, but the guards are never allowed into his personal quarters, so we can get past them easy with the passages. We'll go into his memorabilia chamber and work our way from there," Ingra explained. The secret passage was incredibly dark, and it smelled like mildew and decomposing concrete. It was obviously older than much of the complex.

"What is this?" Ed asked as he felt his way along the dark hallway. Below him, phosphorus strips glowed sickly, and ahead of him Ingra was lit with a garish pallor. For whatever reason, Ed felt a very clear sense of nostalgia creeping around down here.

"How did it get here? What was this originally? What's with the writing and the new walls and -"

"One question at a time, please. It is hard to walk and talk down here. It's a little dark, y'know."

Ed fell silent, looking around in the dark passage. Curiously, he felt something spark within him as he attempted to read the writing on the walls, pulling apart the old formulas as they slowly became more and more familiar. In a sudden dash, Edward realized the spark he felt was curiosity. These past few days, nay, _months, _he'd been so busy, suppressed, mopey and daunted that his will to learn had been slowly snuffed by the rushing current of life. There was a moment of horror as Ed realized that the future and the city had begun to change him. He'd lost his sense of family, and he'd begun to forget the place he came from.

He'd begun to lose hope in returning home.

Just as Ed started to wrestle with this idea, Ingra finally began to answer his questions.

"Kade is a very big Battle for the Underground buff. I believe he is obsessed with it. He has entire rooms dedicated to memorabilia from the time period, so when we alk into his memorabilia chamber, you'll probably recognize a lot of it. This entire complex is actually built on top of a lab that was pivotal to the war," Ingra explained, and Edward was struck with a sudden flash of recognition. He had had the nagging feeling that he'd been here before, and this only exacerbated the feeling.

"Was it Lab 5?" Ed asked slowly, and Ingra began to slow her walk. She looked over her shoulder at him, pale skin glowing greenish-yellow from the phosphorus floor strips. She nodded silently.

"Ironic," Ed noted, quirking an eyebrow as he thought of the heinous experiments that had taken place here. It seemed like this area was perpetually cursed; even two hundred years later, they were sucking souls out of bodies and stuffing them in places they didn't belong. There was a sudden _bang, _and the two of them immediately began running down the corridor. The fighting was getting closer. Ed wondered why the riots hadn't died down yet. They should be over by now! Everyone was supposed to be out within an hour, tops!

"Ingra, is there any reason why they're still fighting?" Ed huffed as he ran along side the woman. She was doing surprisingly well for someone who'd just been removed from a prone state in a glass tube for what must have been several months.

"Each door's got a separate security server servicing it. Even if you take out the power, everyone's still trapped inside. There's also the guards, the other security functions of the complex, and the fact we're pretty high up. The sand level gets lower every year, so more and more of the city ends up elevated. Any of those things could throw wrenches into the escape plan," Ingra huffed back, before skidding to a stop in front of a large door.

"Oh, by the by, my name isn't Ingra. That was just the acronym they gave my project," Ingra sheepishly admitted as she began to unlock the door's key pad. It dinged cheerfully as the door clicked open, and Ed followed her inside quietly, leaving behind the sounds of frantic footsteps.

As Ingra shut the door and locked it again, Ed asked, "Alright, then, what's your name?"

She stopped for a moment to look at him with a strange expression. Ed frowned at her.

"What, do I have something in my teeth? I didn't get some sort of weird gunk on my face, did I?" Ed asked, truly perplexed. Ingra only gave what could be described as the briefest flicker of an uncertain smile.

"No. Just... you wanted to know my name. I found that... interesting. I've only ever had one person ask me my name," she said, almost wistfully. She turned to the room in front of them, and Ed's eyes widened.

There were old car parts, and there were pieces of crockery. There were paintings and books and every day items. There were dresses, and shoes, and hats, and coats, most of which Ed immediately pegged into their respective groups. Everything was in glass cases, and all things were lit with a red light in order to preserve them. Ed walked in a daze through the corridors of pristine artifacts, feeling odd as he stared at a letter with familiar writing on it that was yellowed with age.

_Your leading man was nowhere to be found..._

Ed pressed his fingers against the glass as he read the notation plaque at the bottom.

_This coded letter was written to fugitive Roy Mustang while he was in hiding in Aerugo concerning the disappearance of his fellow comrade and alchemist, Edward 'Fullmetal' Elric. Reports denote that the message may have started the end of the Battle for the Underground, having been released just before Mustang's failed charge with alchemist Alex 'Strong Arm' Armstrong..._

Ed felt his breath catch in his throat, and it was as if the deaths were once again fresh, just like they had been all those weeks ago when he'd stood on top of that skyscraper in the ruins of a dead city. This note seemed to make everything real again, that this was no dream. He felt tears prick his eyes as he thought about the despair that must have followed his supposed 'death'. He looked around at the room, full of things from _his _time, and it was as if everything was brought into focus. Edward felt a homesickness flood him, and he reminisced as he moved from case to case. Ingra followed behind, respectfully keeping her distance.

She'd hoped for this. The minute she'd seen him, she could tell he'd forgotten his purpose, and that he'd begun to lose hope once more. She had hoped that perhaps bringing him here might remind him once more of times that were better, and perhaps spur him. It was a slapdash decision; it could have just as easily sent him into a spiral of despair and despondence. However, as she watched him move from each display, she knew that her ploy had worked, to an extent. Unfortunately, she would have to get him going soon. They couldn't be here forever. There was another passage they needed to go through before reaching the main floor where the arena was.

Ed, meanwhile, had managed to keep his composure for the most part... until he reached the very end of the exhibit. His eyes grew wider, and he felt a lump build in his throat. He couldn't keep tears from spilling out of his eyes as he stood in front of a large, nearly ten foot tall glass cabinet containing a very, very familiar suit of armor. The blood seal was perfectly intact, the holes in the helmet seemed to stare at him, and it was shining underneath its red light. He bit his lip as fat tears dribble down his chin to hit the ground. He balled up his fists, shaking as the fresh grief of losing his brother hit him with full force.

He found himself on his knees, leaning against the cabinet, sobbing as memories of his brother overtook him. No matter how many times he told himself that Alphonse had died nearly a hundred and fifty years ago, all Ed could think about was the worried look on his metal face as Ed had run off into the Underground after those soldiers. It was the last time he'd seen his brother, and Ed wished he could've remembered the last thing he'd said, or if there was anything he could've done to keep this from happening. To know his brother had grown up without him, had children, became a pioneer and a leader, and then just... _dying _didn't register. At least, not until now, seeing all of the items of Alphonse's life behind the suit of armor, the suits he'd worn or the letters he'd written, diaries and memos and pens.

"He was our inspiration. Your brother," Ingra breathed. Ed looked at her over his shoulder, still on his knees. She pulled the collar of her shirt to reveal a Flamel cross tattooed under her clavicle. She knelt next to Edward.

"And you are our inspiration, too. Do not let that die," she said seriously, looking into his eyes, and as she did so Edward realized that, inadvertently, he had also become a cult figure.

"We are a following, still here in the city, though broken. At one time, we were a part of Oasis, but we couldn't handle the bureaucracy and politics. We were Alphonse's brainchild of sorts when he worked with Oasis, before moving to Oasis Prime. I worked as a contract killer for some time with Nirvana solely because our group had been disbanded and splintered into so many pieces. It has been a long... _long _time since I have found inspiration," she explained. Ed stared at the ground, thinking hard. Suddenly, his look hardened into a mask of determination, and he got up from his kneeling position.

"Well, now that you've found him, I guess he's got to get you guys back on your feet. Come on, we've got a bunch of slaves who need to get free," Ed stated solidly. Ingra blinked before she gave a small, sad smile. Ed trekked forward without her, on his own two feet.

Meanwhile, however, Ingra had a little business to do with all of this memorabilia and a certain something she'd taken with her...

* * *

"Well, there's three," Nirvana panted as slaves flooded to escape through the massive hole and stairs she'd created out the side of the building. They were about a hundred feet above the sidewalk level. She was honestly surprised that none of the homunculi had come down to stop the ruckus, but then again, the more mayhem and dying, the more power to them. They had probably evacuated themselves rather than deal with the mess of humanity going on down below. She was sure there were secure passages just for them, and she cursed herself for not having went to look for them.

"Hey, do this one!" Georgia commanded, pointing to another wall about two hundred feet away. An instant spike of rebellion flared up in her, and Nirvana childishly spat, "Make me!"

The two glared at each other before Kojak sighed, came over, and suddenly threw Nirvana over his shoulder. Comically, she hung there like a ragdoll, too stunned to really do anything. Kojak stopped in front of Georgia, also stunned, and explained, "It's just a lot easier this way. They get the idea better." With that, he continued to carry her off.

"Kojak... Koko, you can put me down now," Nirvana sighed. The fighting was dying down, especially with more of the slaves rushing out rather than around. There was a lot more order going on, rather than outright chaos. Imal and Richie could even handle most of the fighting now that they had help, and Thaddeus was off doing God knew what. There were so many people, it was a wonder Georgia could keep up with all of them.

"It's been a long time since you've called me Koko, you li'l runt," Kojak laughed, grunting as he shifted her higher on to his shoulder.

"Well, it's been a long time since we've even had a chance to talk without someone screaming at me," Nirvana retorted petulantly as Kojak put her on the ground. He suddenly took her by the shoulders and admired her from arm's length. She lifted her eyebrows in surprise.

"Is this really the right time to be looking me over? I mean, yeah, I'm beautiful and all, but..." Kojak smiled and shook his head. He slapped her shoulder affectionately.

"You just grew up nice and fine, 's all. Ain't got a chance to actually lookat 'cha since you came back. Just... I missed you, baby girl," Kojak sighed, his eyes oddly shining with a paternal love. Nirvana, unused to such blatant displays of affection and love, squirmed under his gaze as if under a bright spotlight, though she did feel a glow within her.

"Ah, you and Charlotte just beat the pretty into me. 'Gotta be smart, not just pretty', remember?" Nirvana joked as she started to walk away, and Kojak's face fell.

He hadn't told her about Charlotte.

"What's the matter with you? You look like you took a big drink of cat pee thinking you were getting tea or something," Hohenheim asked as Kojak took a large breath. Nirvana drew a large circle on the wall, talking with Imal as she did so, being oddly chatty all of a sudden.

"Ever had it where you wanna tell someone something so bad, but you don't know how to say it?" Kojak asked, the both of them sharing a look. Hohenheim sobered as he thought about his wife. Even after two hundred years, her death was still a splinter in his heart. There had been so many things he'd wanted to say to her and the boys...

"Yeah, I have. Let me guess; someone's dead or missing?" Hohenheim asked, already old enough to know exactly where this was going.

"Yep. Someone's dead or missing."

* * *

"Most of them should've left by now. I'm hoping Greed didn't decide to leave me behind..." Ed pondered out loud to himself as he walked down the plush hallway. They were in Kade's personal quarters at the top of the arena. Ingra trailed in front of him, picking across the carpet lightly as if she were dodging eggshells. Every sound they heard caused them to flinch, and they were constantly looking over their shoulders, making sure that guards weren't tracking them.

Finally, they tiptoed through the kitchen, and Ed was sidetracked by a random plate of baked goods, from beignets to cookies to little cakes made out of God knew what. Even better, they were made from _real _flour and _real _icing and _real _milk. Ed couldn't even remember the last time he'd had a dessert. His stomach growled, and he groaned internally to himself as he looked at their floury, flower-iced goodness. Guiltily, he traversed the kitchen back to the counter as Ingra checked the door, and he took one of the beautifully iced pieces of confectionery.

Just as he raised it to his lips, Ingra hissed, "What are you _doing?_"

He glanced at her sidelong, the cookie halfway into his mouth, and he deflated.

"What? I have needs."

"We're in the middle of the lion's den, and you stop for food."

"I never say no to free food."

"It's not _free _food."

"It ain't got a price on it, and it belongs to one of the most hated men in the city. I think I can afford to take _one _cookie."

Ingra rolled her eyes, and Ed, realizing he'd won this round, finally stuffed the cookie into his mouth. To his surprise, it made a crackling in his mouth as he chewed it, and he made a small noise of surprise.

At that moment, Ed looked towards the door they'd just entered through, and his gold eyes met two plastic, very surprised set.

"Aw, _fo dje luffa -_"

Ed muttered under his breath with his mouth full as Kade suddenly ran off, and two knives suddenly raced by Edward's head, embedding themselves by the door. Ed ducked a little late, and he looked over at Ingra with an incredulous expression.

"Wha' deh he' iz wrohm wichu?!"

She stared at him with an equally incredulous expression.

"If you hadn't stopped for a _cookie, _we would be out of here by now! You are the great Edward Elric?!" Ingra asked in an exasperated tone. Ed crammed the rest of the cookie in his mouth just as there was a very loud _BOOM__, _and the two looked at each other seriously, though Ed still had his mouth covered in crumbs. As if on an unspoken cue, the two rushed into action, Ingra taking knives from the racks while Edward stuffed the rest of his baked goodies into his pockets.

"You take one cookie..." Ed muttered as they dashed out of the kitchen. They appeared in the living room which had a large, glass window that looked over the entire arena and the chaos currently accompanying it. They stood there for a moment, watching the mayhem, and Ingra professed, "It looks like they're leaving. There are entrances there, there, and there. Where do you need to be?"

"Over there," Ed said, pointing his metal hand to the armory that was currently swarmed with still-escaping slaves pouring from the Slave Quarter next to the Infirmary. He shoved another cookie into his mouth. He didn't know when he'd have time to scarf down the rest.

"It will be faster to use the elevator or an alphysical translation. Unfortunately, I'm not sure I could alphysically transfer both of us there in such a short time," Ingra worried, rubbing her Flamel's cross.

"I've got a better idea. Break the glass, and we'll just ride down the wall," Ed suggested. Ingra stared at him in confusion before Ed slapped his forehead.

"Don't you people understand the concept of trust?" he asked as he drew back a fist to punch out the glass -

Ed found himself flying through the air, and he had just enough time to realize what was going on to know he was about to hit a giant, glass wallscreen. He hit it with a massive _thwump _and a pained grunt as glass rained down on him while he fell to the floor. Ingra was not doing much better, seeing as she was currently lifting herself from the guts of what used to be a plush sofa.

Towering over the two teenagers, a massive robot made of dull iron. And, of course, standing next to him was Kade in all his fake glory.

"Did you really think I was without defenses? Did you think that I would leave myself so _vulnerable?_ Idiots! I am a GOD with this technology, and you are in my realm," Kade said in a breathy, reedy voice, using a diction that Ed recognized as the same halting, careful speech Ingra had sported before her transfer to flesh.

How had he not seen it? Kade was another automaton. Well, _that _explained a lot.

"Oh, for Paracelsus' sake, not another one," Ed moaned to himself as he brushed the glass off of his shoulders. He had plenty of little nicks from the shattered glass, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. Honestly, he was amazed he hadn't been injured by this point. He was used to having to fight the big bad guy with one arm down and about fifty seconds on the clock. This wasn't such a bad change.

"What do you mean, not another one?" Ingra croaked as she lifted herself off the ground. Kade was already approaching, the massive behemoth behind him lumbering in slow determination.

"I've met too many guys who've wanted to be God. I'm getting tired of it, honestly," Ed confessed, cracking his knuckles.

_Ever heard a game called Xingese telephone...?_

Ed's eyes glinted.

"Like every control freak, he was the first to use the technology that created you. Where I... _when _I come from, there's this creature called a lich," he said, slowly circling Kade as he continued to approach. He was sure to put the window at his back, the lights from the stadium behind him in position to blind Kade rather than himself.

Ingra moved with Ed, only slightly to the side and behind, their steps in tandem. Ed had seen her fighting style, and he knew how she fought. Her fighting style, after a bit of thought, was familiar, if containing embellishments and detracted moves. And Ingra knew Ed's style after a bit of thought, as well.

"A lich?" she asked quietly as Kade suddenly charged. The both of them split, sidestepping the leviathan barreling towards them. Ed leaped over a table as Kade's main body, his human form, attempted to knife him with a knife attachment. Ed sidestepped, finding himself back to back with Ingra as she readied an electric stun net grenade.

"Yep. Undead wizard guy. Locked his heart up in a box," Ed grunted as he parried another knife thrust.

"Shouldn't you be focused on fighting me?!" Kade growled, and Ed scoffed as Ingra suddenly dropped to the ground, rolled between his legs, and took his place.

"Watch your back," Ingra mentioned as Ed quickly spun around and barely managed to avoid getting his head bitten off by the massive iron monster threatening to overtake them. It was a wonder that Ingra had managed to keep it off _Ed's _back, much less her own. Ed quickly transmuted a spear from the ground, beating the creature in the head a few times.

"Undead guy has tons of bodies, and it doesn't matter how many you kill. He comes back. Unless..." Ed said, deciding this was as good a moment as any to teach someone something.

"...you kill his heart," Ingra muttered, hitting Kade and throwing the stun grenade after him. He went down in a haze of electric arcs, his body jerking and twitching.

"Exactly," Ed grunted as he pushed back against the metal behemoth that had its jaws clamped around his spear. Ed stepped to the side as the monster broke through the spear and barreled forwards, crashing into the window. The window, however, didn't break all the way, and Ed grimaced internally as he thought about how he'd thought he could just _break _the window with a smash of his fist. Obviously, this was going to take a little bit more elbow grease than that.

"We can go and find the heart, or we can break this window and get out of here," Ed stated, staring at her.

This was a crucial moment. Any minute now, the behemoth of metal would get up and start the fight over again, giving Ingra little time to decide. This snap decision would tell Ed a whole lot about her personality. He'd only known her a few days. He needed to she was a person he could trust.

Or, at the very least, watch very very closely.

Ingra looked trapped for a moment by the possibilities. She was at a fork in the road. Exact revenge on the man who'd done this to her, or get out of here and never look back. It was a hard choice, and Ed wasn't going to deny her that fact.

"Let's leave," Ingra finally said. Incidentally enough, the giant creature-machine stood up on its hind legs and roared discordantly. Ingra winced at the noise, and Ed had had enough. He wanted out of here.

"You think one good shove will break that window?" Ed asked. The creature sprang forward, and Ingra nodded hastily.

Ed clapped his hands, pressed them to the floor, and a massive concrete hand jutted out of the floor, caught the creature in its palm, and shoved it out the window. _This _time, it broke.

"Not bad," Ingra said, a fairly impressed look on her face. Ed dusted his hands off.

"Amateur stuff," Ed professed proudly, and Ingra stared at the ceiling in mortification. To believe, _this _guy was her inspiration. Well, technically the brother of the guy who was her inspiration. Never the less, she'd expected someone a bit more... mature.

"Well, ladies first," Ed stated, pointing out the window. Down below, the arena was scattered with bits of metal. Ingra gave him an odd, but amused, look.

"How are we getting down?" she asked. Ed snapped his fingers and pressed his hands to the floor again. A platform jutted from the concrete beneath the window.

"Welcome to the Elric Express. Please step aboard, mind the gap, and be sure to keep all hands and feet on to the platform while in motion," Ed said triumphantly, hands on his hips. Ingra pretended to step daintily on the platform, standing on top of it without an ounce of trepidation as Ed trotted lightly on top of it.

And, as sudden as a blink, Ed's eyes widened as his shoulder exploded into a blossom of blood, falling forward as Ingra caught him with a horrified look on her face. She looked over his head at the emaciated man standing almost thirty feet away, gun in hand and a crazed look on his face. Kade cocked the gun -

"Edward... Ed, down. DOWN!" she shouted at him, Edward obliging as fast as he could manage.

As if for eternity, they started their descent, towards the madness below.

* * *

**A/N: **Wow, it's been a long time since I've published a chapter, huh? Well, here's the latest installation! Hopefully, this will fix some of the things that I've been slacking on with this story and fix a few things that I (and another, very good reviewer) have noticed. There is A LOT less going on in this chapter (bear with me), but hopefully I made up for that with a bit of characterization.

Big, big, big thanks to my reviewers Skirt2819 (thank you for the depth! Wow!), salvage1 (I love the encouragement - I'm a little low on self-esteem, lol), roymustaang (ha! Commit to your studies before reading fanfic! Life lesson! You'll thank me for it!), Hikari Hellion (I'm glad you're enjoying everything- and all those questions will eventually be answered), and Uniasus (her reviews are actually PMed, but they were very, very good, I assure everyone. In fact, she hit on a lot of things I've been thinking myself). Send the latter your love - she's volunteering for a very good cause.

To my favoriteer army, I have on new recruit: roymustaang! Welcome!

And finally, my faithful subscribers. I thank you from the bottom of my butt. I'd say heart, but my butt is a whole lot bigger.

And, at last, discussion questions! _What sort of characterization would you like to see? What's your favorite character and, more importantly, why? Do you think we've hit the climax of the arc? Is the story moving too fast? What would you like to see? What should the focus of the story be more on: the race to get out of the city, the things Ed is fighting through (both corporeal and otherwise), or the emotional value of everything going on?_

Well, that's all. God bless you, and happy reading!


	25. Haywire

"He shot me. HE _SHOT _ME! That-that, skinny, white little-!" Ed seemed more angry than hurt. More than that, his pride had been wounded. Of course the bad guy would go behind his back and shoot him! Why hadn't he thought of that before? Ingra shushed him quietly as she inspected his shoulder. They were moving at a fairly slow pace, though not exactly a snail's crawl, towards the arena floor. The Armory was only a few yards away from their stop.

Ingra looked up, and just as she'd thought, Kade leaned over the edge and wildly began firing. However, he had a handgun with terrible aim, and Ed remedied their problem by creating a stone half-sphere around them.

"I _hate _guns," Ed muttered under his breath.

"It looks like it was a small caliber bullet. Your metal shoulder stopped most of the impact, but it's managed to burrow its way down into your back. It doesn't look like it's hit anything else," Ingra reported clinically. She looked over her shoulder at the ground nervously, rubbing her bald head.

Ed, meanwhile, was standing up. Now that the adrenaline was done coursing through his system from the initial wound, his shoulder _hurt. _He bit his lip as he craned his neck down, noting that the tug and pull of muscles felt unnatural and tensed. In fact, the entire thing felt like someone had shoved a very large poker through his back. He was lucky that his automail arm was the one affected, or else his flesh arm would be useless.

"Here, stand still," Ingra stated. She removed several knives from a pouch at her side. Ed skittered to the edge of the platform apprehensively, wondering if he could still jump down the last twenty feet. However, Ingra seemed to have good intentions. She threw the knives down on the ground in a star pattern before doing a second star.

"Alkahestry?" Ed asked, loosing his sudden apprehensiveness. Ingra nodded.

"Our group was required to be trained in alkahestry from a young age. It has many practical, medicinal applications," Ingra stated. Ed stepped into the circle cautiously. Ingra mirrored him.

"I thought you could only use alkahestry for minor wounds?" Ed asked. He didn't know what to expect. He _definitely _hoped it wouldn't hurt. At least, hurt any more than he already was. Ingra smirked at him.

"This is two hundred years of development, Edward Elric. This is _real _alkahestry." There was a bright crackle as arcs of light linked all of the knives, and Ed's face was backlit with the sparks of the star pattern. He was quite proud that he managed to contain his initial yelp of surprise. He'd seen alkahestry done before, just... not on himself.

Suddenly, he began to feel his back itch almost uncontrollably. It wasn't necessarily an unpleasant feeling, but at the same time it wasn't comfortable either. It felt like several thousand ants were crawling under his skin simultaneously, and there was an odd pressure moving through his skin towards the surface. It took him several moments to realize that it was the _bullet. _

Sufficiently freaked out, the blonde alchemist was very glad when the light show stopped, and he found his back no longer in pain. However, Ingra looked much _much _more tired, her face drawn and wan. Ed lunged forward as she suddenly teetered. She leaned on him for support, and Ed asked with a touch of concern, "Hey are you... uh, well, obviously, you're not okay, but..."

"I'll be fine," Ingra assured. "I haven't down a medicinal transfer in a really long time. I was almost afraid I'd forget how to tap into the Dragon's Pulse." Ed smiled a little before realizing that they'd reached their destination.

"Come on. We'd better hurry up. They won't wait forever."

* * *

"That airship has to leave, with or without them," a general stated. His short, cropped hair and pasty skin seemed to scream _underworlder, _but Mustang tried to forget that. These generals had won their stars in simulation combat, rather than actual raids. It irked her that generals with no real understanding of desert warfare were telling her what to do. Particularly this one, who'd been against the Underground Black Market Deal this entire time. He'd even tried to get Mustang fired from her post for circumventing the usual procedure of _file everything in triplicate, submit to the right servers, wait a few months, and hope you get a 'we'll think about it'. _

"We can't leave them there. They've already been there a month. Anything could've happened to them," Mustang said, rubbing the bridge of her nose. The war council room was a bland, regular office room with flags on the walls, old weaponry in shadowboxes, and a large table set in the middle. Several higher officers were fiddling with a variety of electronic devices, listening intently without giving the idea of respect, and some officers were watching with rapt attention. There were two commanders in the room including Mustang, but the generals outranked her.

"What? And tip the city off that they have rats running around in their Underground? All of that work you'd done would be for nothing," General King sighed. "I understand the need to get supplies quickly and I appreciate your initiative, but the lives of the citizens come before the group you've sent. We're already on a shortage of housing and food, and the sickbays are flooding from lack of meds and proper equipment."

The pasty general quipped, "If we wait any longer, your soldiers won't come back heroes. They'll come back as failures. Either way, they lose."

"But if we leave them there, there's a chance that they could be captured," Mustang pointed out rather bitterly.

"Well, I'm sure you've trained your men and women well enough that they can resist giving information," General Pasty sneered. He was not fond of Mustang, as she was an upstart who'd risen much too fast for his liking. The resemblance between herself and her ancestor was sometimes a bit striking. It seemed like all Mustangs ended up shooting stars.

Of course, not all shooting stars go _up._

There was a tense silence. Mustang was backed into a corner. If she pressed that point, it would seem as if her soldiers weren't loyal enough to Oasis to keep their mouths shut under duress. But if she admitted their abilities at staying mum, it only gave them more reason to leave the team behind. He'd put her between a rock and a hard place.

"Um, sir, we have it on fairly good sources that the Patrons have a good grasp of mind-ravager technology. It wouldn't matter how good your soldiers are. As long as they have a spinal cord, they can pull any information they want with a lot of digging around in their gray matter," the other commander, Shen, stated. Mustang inwardly let loose a sigh of relief. At least he was on her side.

"What about this business with the mole?" General King asked. "How does that affect us? Can we really trust your team once they come back? For all we know, one of their number holds a tracker."

Mustang wanted to close her eyes and disappear. This was too much all at once. Those were some of her very good friends out there. She'd known Georgia since she was a teenager. Kojak had been her firearms and survival instructor. She'd practically grown up with Grayson. Zhang and Guun were good people, emissaries at that, and Richie was a sweet kid. Nirvana was a handful, and at least she could count on that stubborn bolthead to survive. Ed and Alice and the rest...? Could she condemn them to that punishment? Leave them in harm's way?

"Our teams have lost track of their biometric signals, yes. The city is too crowded and busy for us to actually get a lock on them accurately without tipping off the entire Underground to our digital presence. I think the incident with the Crash Coffin was just a fluke. We haven't had any problems thus far from what Grayson's told me. There is no mole," Mustang breathed. The other officers stared between them.

"What is our consensus?" Shen asked quietly. Mustang nearly bit her lip, a nervous habit. Shen wanted this over and done with, just so he could be practical enough to make contingency plans. She wished she could be just as decisive. She knew she couldn't put the lives of her friends and comrades above the entire bunker, but this didn't seem like a choice that _needed _to be made. They could wait a few days, couldn't they?

But if they waited... Patron could find out. And if Patron found out, they could declare war.

And if they declared outright war, they would rip them out of the ground kicking and screaming into the sunlight. Though Oasis's arsenals were some of the best on that side of the planet, they weren't ready to take on Patron City yet.

"All in favor of leaving them behind?" General King asked. Several hands went up. Not surprisingly, General Pasty was among them. She shot him nasty look.

"All in favor of waiting?" Several hands again went up. Shen raised his hand, and Mustang once again thanked the man silently for his loyalty. However, she could see it was a tie. General King would have to be the tiebreaker. The other generals were either too busy delegating different search parties in other parts of the world or in the hospital due to sheer age.

General King sat there with his hands clasped in front of his mouth, and he stared intently at the table. Mustang thought that King was a reasonable man with a lot of common sense, and unlike a lot of the generals, he had actually seen real warfare. His platoon had come under drone fire, and several of his friends were killed. He'd wandered the desert for nearly three days before a passing Han See tribe found him and took him back to Oasis.

"We'll stay four hours. If they don't show up, we leave. Does that sound fair?" King asked, looking around the room. Mustang's eyes tightened, but she understood. They had to have a compromise. She may not like it, but at least he'd given her team a chance. She sincerely hoped they'd make it.

It was clear that was the verdict. King nodded his gray head, and he stated, "Well, we'd better get busy. We're going to have a lot of paper work to fill out."

* * *

"Something tells me you were _never _the type to be punctual," Greed noted sardonically as Ed caught his breathe against a wall. Ingra was leaning against another slave as he gave her a cup of water to drink. Now that Ed could see her in good lighting, he noticed that, like Kade, she was incredibly skinny and frail looking. It was a wonder she'd managed to actually _fight. _Of course, the fighting style she used had been implemented by a likewise constitutionally frail woman.

"Shut up. We hit a few speed bumps," Ed panted. Very suddenly, Ed was tackled by a blue, purple, and brown blur, and he rocked backwards as he tried to regain his balance.

"You made it!" Alice squealed into his ear, and Ed winced, though his grimace was part-smile.

"What, you thought I wouldn't? Have a little faith!" Ed ordered. Zhang tiredly stood by the weapons racks.

Everything had seemed to die down. Despite Kade's immense security measures, it had nothing against straight-up alchemy. After Nirvana had started to punch holes in the walls, the security personnel had decided that their lives were worth more than their paychecks and had hightailed it. Now it was just a clean-up job.

Very suddenly, there was a gunshot, and Greed's head abruptly exploded into a cloud of red mist. Ed's eyes widened with absolute surprise as blood splattered all over his face, along with several other things he didn't want to think about, and Alice screamed loudly. Ingra swayed with horror as Zhang shouted profanity. The source of the sound strode forwards with determination and murder in her eyes.

"You -"

BANG.

"-little-"

BANG.

"-MONSTER-"

_BANG BANG BANG._

Each gunshot rang out, the bullets slamming into the body as slaves ducked and screamed, or immediately ran for cover. Georgia cocked her gun, and Ed stepped in front of her.

"WAIT WAIT! HE'S FRIENDLY! HE'S FRIENDLY!" Ed shouted in a panic. Georgia obviously wasn't going to listen though. An unnatural bloodlust was wafting off of her like a noxious cloud. Ed realized that she would gladly shoot straight through him if it meant getting at the homunculus he was guarding. Ed clapped his hands and brought up a wall just as Georgia set off another volley of slugs. These were _real _slugs, too, not the tranquilizer patch kind. She meant business.

Suddenly, the sound of gunfire stopped, and it was replaced by the sound of a body hitting the ground. A gun skittered past the wall, and Ed stared at it with a feeling of sick dread.

"Ed, it's safe now. Put the wall down."

Of course, the alchemist was quite hesitant. After a moment of tense silence, he lowered the wall. Behind him, he could hear Greed's head reforming again with sick squelches and wet slaps, the muscles and ligaments reattaching themselves. Ed's stomach roiled as he tried to wipe off the grime and blood off his face. On the other side, Georgia was prostrate on the ground, breathing shallowly as her eyes twitched behind her eyelids. Grayson's completely blank face stared down at her with what would have been beatitude - if not for the fact he was holding a rather bloody gun in his hand.

He must've hit her with the butt of the gun. Ed could see the knot growing on the back of Georgia's head. Grayson smiled at Ed rather sympathetically as the blond, usually bouncy librarian stated, "She'll have a headache for a while. She's programmed to go after homunculi. Call it installed hate."

"P-programmed-"

"Man, it's been a _long _time since I've had to regenerate. Dear Father, I'd forgotten how much that hurts," Greed complained from behind. Ingra helped him get up as the slaves backed away from the renegade homunculus. The slaves were obviously distrustful.

"Um, Mister Greed? Mister Greed. Excuse me, coming through, won't be a minute, ugh, be careful with that. That's disgusting." A person hustled their way through the crowd, and Greed's almost ever-present aide seemed to materialize at his side. The aide still had a spotless tablet in the crook of his arm, and he didn't look the least ruffled. Ed could've swore he'd seen the guy fighting his way through the security guards with the expertise of a lifelong martial artist, but he didn't even look winded. Ed swallowed. What was with everyone and their grandmother suddenly become epic fighters?! Ed was beginning to feel a little outclassed here!

"Edward Elric, I believe you'll be wanting this back," Ingra stated in his ear as Greed and his aide discussed something briefly. Ed blinked in surprise as something cold and metal was pushed into his hand. He lifted up the object, and a feeling of nostalgia washed over him as he rubbed his thumb over the familiar surface of his pocket watch. In a fit of affection, Ed gave a loving kiss to the watch, never having realized just how much he'd missed it.

"Thanks," Ed said emphatically, looking at Ingra with a smile. However, his smile very suddenly turned to a frown of concern as he noticed that Ingra was shaking heavily.

"Ingra, you're-"

"Alright, people, let's move it out. You know where you need to get going," Greed stated, moving people out of the holes. Ed watched as the people began streaming out at the homunculus' behest, several of them flat-out running into the streets. Doctors were removing or shorting out people's slave tats as they went out, and there was a gleaming car waiting in the streets below. Stairs trailed down the side of the building, and slaves gladly jumped down them two-by-two or four-by-four.

"We'll get all of your guys in my car," Greed said to Ed, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Alice chatter happily with her adopted brother, who was surrounded by a posse of suspiciously dark-skinned slaves half-dressed in indigo. In the back of his mind, Ed decided to take an educated guess and say they were part of his former tribe.

"Is that safe?" Ed asked.

"Hey, not like I'm hiding what I am. I can help whoever I want, right? I'm my own man. Who knows - maybe I'll hitch a ride with you guys in a crate or something," Greed said. Ed winced. He had a hard time believing Oasis would let him in on good faith.

Suddenly, Ed felt something grab his shoulder, and he had enough time to turn and see Ingra fall for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day. She was shaking uncontrollably (this seemed to be a perpetual habit!), her teeth chattering as she sweated profusely.

"Uh-oh," Greed stated. _Understatement of the year, _Ed thought to himself as he knelt next to her. Grayson strayed over from his spot next to Georgia, only giving clinical interest. The sheer calm of the usually hyper librarian gave Ed chills. Something in him had changed.

"She's going through withdrawals. Her body is craving shock," he said, as simple as if saying that she had a nose. There was no urgency, only a cat-like curiosity of cold fascination. Ed tried to hold her down, but her body was jerking too much.

"What do we do?" Ed asked seriously. Greed looked at a loss as a crowd started to form around the downed woman.

"Wait for it to pass," Grayson said. "It'll take her body a week or two to pass the drug through her system. Of course, by then she'll have died from dehydration and fever. Her brain will pickle inside of her head from seizures by the time she's done." Ed stared at Grayson, his eyes narrowing. The blonde, unkempt historian had absolutely no concern in his voice. Ed finally stood up, poking a finger at Grayson's chest.

"What is _wrong_ with you?! Don't you even care?! You said yourself she could die, and you're acting as if she's just some... some robot or something!" Ed shouted at him. There was a commotion through the crowd as someone pushed past. Nirvana burst through along with Kojak, and her eyes widened.

"Clottie!" Ed frowned. Clottie? What sort of name was _Clottie? _No wonder she'd been so quiet about her real name. And if that was just the nickname, he'd hate to hear the whole thing.

"Kojak, she's alive. Oh my god, it really is her... WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR, BOLTHEAD?! DO SOMETHING!" Nirvana screeched at Ed in a panic, loud enough to actually make the blonde take a step backwards.

"Hey! I was doing that before you got here thank you!" Ed shouted back before Kojak separated them both.

"Give the girl some air to breath, sheesh. Y'all stinkin' up the place with your yellin' and bad halitosis. Ain't doin' nothing," Kojak said as he bent down and picked up the jerking girl gently.

"Big guy's got a point. And besides, we need to get out of here. No telling how long Kade will wait. I take it you encountered his, uh, alter egos?" Greed asked. Ed's eyes widened.

"You knew about that and you didn't tell me?!"

"I didn't think it'd be important. So sue me."

"He nearly KILLED me!" Ed shouted indignantly. Greed treated this fact with flippant disinterest.

"But you're still here, right? You're fine."

Imal suddenly entered the conversation with a band of his fellows. He looked a little uncertain, intruding on their little powwow.

"We should leave. Some of the slaves are saying that Kade's pulling out his last resort right now. We should do this elsewhere," Imal suggested, as business-like as the most stolid of warriors.

Which was a little incongruous with the fact that he was carrying his little sister on his back, who was happily nuzzling his neck with much affection. The love was practically palpable. The brother-sister bond was giving people diabetes as they stood there.

They stood there for a moment, staring, before they all began to evacuate from the building awkwardly.

"You think he'll follow?" Ed huffed as he ran down the stairs two-by-two. Nirvana followed, clinking with every step as her armor clanked together. Their footsteps matched for every step, the two of them heading down at a breakneck pace just behind Greed, who was leading.

"Who, Kade? Yeah, probably. Nothing we can't handle, right?" Nirvana huffed back. There was a sudden explosion from behind, and the two of them made identical faces of despair and dejection. Chunks of concrete and steel rained down around them as people screamed in fear. They were still almost fifty feet off the ground, halfway down the staircase.

"Nothing we can't handle?" Ed asked. Nirvana winced.

* * *

"Roger that. No sign of Team Black. Lift off sequence is plugged in at four o' clock Patron Standard Time, in forty-five minutes and counting," the pilot said into the speakers. A secure line to Oasis crackled as the message was double encrypted, sent, and received. The pilot waited, checking his array of instruments. His myriad of screens showed the outside surroundings of the ship.

His airship was an amazing work of engineering, one from the Briggs' divisions large arsenal of decommissioned war ships. These days, it was used for cargo hauling. This haul would go straight to the Briggs base where it would be shipped through a slew of different channels back to the Oasis bunker. Within two days, everything that had been bought and shipped would be available for consumer use. The pilot, in the meantime, just had to sit back and wait for the team to come in at the deadline. And if they didn't - well, tough noodles.

"Confirmed. Team Black absent from loading pads. Lift off sequence should commence as normal," the control tower back at Briggs answered. To Patron city, Briggs was a well known port to Drachma that doubled as Oasis' second base-of-commands. Oasis was no secret to Patron City - they just chose to officially ignore the nuisance in the desert so long as it was convenient. After the devastation of Oasis Prime back in the fifties, Oasis had yet to muster any sort of counterattack. As it stood, Patron City turned inwards just as its rival did. If anything, the two were in a stalemate, with the Oasis bunker's location remaining secret while Patron City's defenses stood unparalleled by any in the world.

The bored pilot began to play a laser finger-cradle game when something caught his eye. He leaned forwards as a black, unmarked car pulled up on to the loading pads. The massive concrete pad was one of hundreds layered one above the other in a cubbyhole grid. Getting car clearance must've taken some real clout.

And, just like that, the large car stopped right by the loading bay doors, screeching to a stop on its brakes. He leaned forwards, staring at the screen with a little amazement as a homunculus stepped out of the front passenger seat.

The pilot cursed to himself, preparing to gun the engines and get out of Prime, but the homunculus put his hands up and backed away from the airship. He took a deep breath, his heart racing as the car doors opened. From the sleek vehicle, Team Black stepped out with their hands high as well, save for two unconscious members being carried by the rest of the group. There was a crackle as a transmission feed asked for clearance.

"Clearance accepted on report of military passcode," the pilot muttered back to the ship, and it relayed the information. A code suddenly came through, and it was declared clean. The pilot gave a shuddery sigh.

"State your business," he said, hoping he sounded as confident as he wished he could be.

"Team Black, requesting boarding permission. Fifteen friendlies are present. One incapacitated. One of Team Black is pre-programmed. Over?"

The pilot deliberated. Finally, he called base.

"Sir, I have Team Black here at the loading pad."

"That's excellent. What's the problem?"

"They have fifteen friendlies present, along with their actual team. One of the friendlies... is a homunculus."

There was silence at the other end. The pilot ran a hand nervously through his hair. This was going to be fun.

* * *

"Why aren't they letting us in?" Ed asked. Nirvana sighed through her nose, nervously looking at Imal's newfound... _friends. _

"Look, bolts for brains, put two and two together. Homunculi are our enemy. One claims he's a friend. Do the math. No offense, big guy," Nirvana said coolly, nodding towards Greed.

"No offense taken," Greed answered.

All of them were standing on the hot tarmac, shadows from the other loading pads drifting over their heads as they moved into alignment. There wasn't enough room for all of them to stay stationary and let the ships move, so they had to be continually shifting. This one was stationary because of its close launch time.

"This ain't good, though. The longer we wait..." Kojak muttered.

"The easier it is for Kade to find us," Richie nervously finished. Ed almost jumped at the sound of Richie's voice. He hadn't heard the Rockwell kid in months. He hadn't even talked on the way back from Kade's arena. Thaddeus went around the car, his face drawn. He was splattered with blood from so many wounded, and he looked like a butcher for babies from the look in his eyes. Ed's father stood behind him with a hand on his shoulder, giving him a sympathetic look. No doubt, the both of them had worked together healing the wounded.

"We're not going, are we?" he stated, more fact than question. No one said anything.

Kojak's wrist flashed a red light from his answering device. He raised it to his mouth, putting it on speaker.

"Yes?"

"Only Team Black is allowed clearance. All other friendlies stay in the city," the voice said. Nirvana looked at Thaddeus with alarm as Ed shot a glance at Clottie. She was still in spasms, and if they left her she would most certainly succumb and die without help. Zhang and Guun, finally reunited, stared at the homunculus that had been so hopeful of an alliance. Well... hopeful might be a strong word.

"Well, there went that shot in the dark. Looks like we missed our mark," Greed's aide said, playing with his tablet with quick swipes of his finger, seeming as if he didn't have a care at all.

The loading pad suddenly rocked as something very, _very _large landed on top of it. Everyone groaned as they turned around to look at the giant creature that had climbed up on the pad somehow. It was nearly forty feet tall, made completely out of burnished stainless steel. Every curve was vicious, the behemoth shaped like a massive mix between a panther and an octopus. It had four legs on each side, lean electronic muscle tensing with each step. It had no tail, just a whip of iron cords that swayed back and forth. And, of course, in the cockpit was a very skinny, emaciated corpse of a man with white hair and massive, crazed blue eyes.

"See? What'd I say?" Richie stated dejectedly, and Ed had to snort. Technically, Kojak had -

The monster attacked, and all of them bolted around the ship, trying to put distance between them and the giant monster piloted by the crazy idiot.

"Any bright ideas?" Ed asked, watching the mayhem around him. Clottie (he couldn't hardly think of her that way - it was such a dumb name) and Georgia were being carted by Imal's tribe mates. They'd sort of grouped up, Ed sticking with Nirvana, Hohenheim, Thad, and Kojak, Alice hanging on to Imal and his group, Richie teaming with Grayson, Guun, and Zhang. Greed, of course, was with his aide, standing there not twenty feet away without any fear.

The thing began to advance forward and straight into a blast of exhaust as the engines very suddenly fired up.

"Well, considering it just got a face full of fire, let's have a little fun tripping it up. All those legs gotta be hard to control," Nirvana said. She smirked at Ed, and there seemed to be a sudden spark between the two, a kinship. Ed smirked as well, not losing a moment as he ran back towards the monster. Both teenagers ran between the feet of the thrashing monster, Ed clapping his hands and skimming them across the ground while Nirvana drew on her hands with Sharpie, creating the same effect.

Massive waves of tarmac washed up against its legs, immobilizing it as it tried to stomp them to death, its tails whipping back and forth. The ship was also firing back, launching incendiary sticky-fire rounds. Globs of melting metal dripped off of it as the fire raced across its hide. However, it still put up a fight, firing its own assortment of guns. Only the decommissioned warship's armor saved those taking refuge near it from turning into Swiss cheese. Greed had the boon of his Ultimate Shield, climbing up the creature and ripping out wiring.

"Nirvana, how much can you bend the laws of physics?!" Ed shouted over the roar of gunfire and artillery. Nirvana turned a single leg of the monstrosity into a weak lattice of wires. The entire thing crushed in on itself as Nirvana skittered away.

"Depends on what you want!" Nirvana shouted. "I can't get hang an elephant off a cliff using a hair tie!"

Ed scoffed.

"Nah, I just want to be able to get up there!" He pointed above his head to the cockpit of the monster. Nirvana nodded, eyeing the distance.

"Alright, I'll see what I can do!"

As Nirvana and Ed raced away, Greed skidded back, kicking up a ton of gravel. He cracked his neck, chuckling to himself. It had been a long time since he'd been in an actual firefight. He actually missed the bloodlust that came with warfare. He'd grown so bored, the ennui killing him while he sat up in his ivory tower. No one dared to fight homunculi - which wasn't entirely a good thing. He was getting a little rusty, apparently. He'd already let himself be bathed in sticky-fire once (and that had hurt more than he remembered). Luckily, sticky-fire didn't exactly 'stick' very well to his Ultimate Shield.

Greed stretched out a little, eyeing the behemoth struggling in a mire of tarmac tentacles and wire protrusions. Ed and Nirvana had done their best to slow it up. It was missing two legs, and another one was about to go down as the wiring and electronic muscle began to unravel. He could take a breather, right?

The homunculus was suddenly showered in a hail of bullets - from behind. He ducked, shielding himself with an arm as the bullets tried to burrow their way under his skin. He realized that these were sleeper slugs, mechanized bullets designed for high impact and modified to drill underneath the target once they'd reached their destination. Slowly, he could feel his Ultimate Shield being eaten away at, chip by chip. He hissed instinctively as he searched for the source of the pinning fire.

Unsurprisingly, Georgia was the one firing. The short-haired soldier was advancing with determination, her eyes dilated to the point that her irises looked black. The soldier was not herself. Her programming had kicked in. Greed was stuck at an impasse. If he stood there and took the damage, the bullets would reach his inner core, and then nothing would stop them from reaching his Stone. He couldn't attack, though, either - she was an ally.

Greed's aide, however, had no such qualms. Without a second thought, the aide tackled the smaller woman to the ground, wrapping his legs around her neck and choking her as he tried to disarm her. Thaddeus and Kojak ran over to subdue their haywire comrade as Greed plucked each bullet out from his carbon shield.

"I owe you one!" Greed shouted to his aide, and the man raised a thumbs up. If Greed could smile, he would've. The monster suddenly pulled free of its restraints, and Greed was back to work again. He bounded up the foreleg of the creature, but he wasn't alone.

Ed, dressed in a strange suit made of tarmac and metal covered in odd designs, raced up the side step-by-step with the faster homunculus, and Greed laughed.

"Long time no see," Ed stated, giving a cocky salute. With that, he disappeared towards the cockpit. Greed watched him go as he vaulted over the creature's shoulder and on to its back. He looked back over to the ship, and with a falling feeling he realized that the ship was preparing to leave. Its bay doors were open, allowing the refugees to come on - but barring the friendlies from before. Greed reached down and began to dig towards the spine of the creature, hoping to hit something central and end this, but a whip of steel grabbed him and slung him backwards as the tail caught him around the waist.

He crashed into the ground right next to the arguing teams. The pilot was standing by several of his comrades, all of them shouldering firearms at the newcomers. Hohenheim walked from his group towards the downed homunculus, helping him to his feet.

"Where's Ed?" Hohenheim asked darkly as the altercation grew heated.

"Battling the big guy in the cockpit, from what I can tell. How's the chick over there?" Greed asked, nodding to the group outside the bay doors. Hohenheim's face tightened into a scowl.

"Programming's still in effect. Looks like Grayson was programmed, too, but it's much more streamlined - it's a newer sort of brainwashing, I guess," Hohenheim stated distastefully. Greed was silent, watching the debate rage. There wasn't much more he could do. With Ed taking down the beast, they'd be more than set. Not to mention, Greed was pretty sure his Shield was punctured through and needed a bit of heal up anyhow.

"Figure something out _now," _Grayson ordered, his eyes strangely steely. The two groups had been doing nothing but wasting time.

"No friendlies on the ship. We can't risk the security -" Faster than most people would've believed the man could move, Grayson raced forward and placed a knife just below the man's right eye. The pilot stood there, transfixed with horror.

"Little _rat, _telling me what to do. You don't understand. We need _out _of this city. Or something really... _really..._ _really_ bad is going to happen. Do you understand? Or do I have to remove that pretty brown eye from your head so you can see it my way?" Grayson said in a honey sweet voice, tracing the knife just under the man's eye, drawing a trickle of blood from the soft skin.

"Grayson... Grayson, enough," Zhang breathed, appalled at the man's behavior. No one had thought Grayson could be so uncontrollable. Or... in hindsight that should've been apparent. After all, Grayson was a veteran from the last Team Black Market. It was no wonder the city had driven him crazy.

But... something didn't quite add up.

"All right, all right. Just... let the tribesmen come. The homunculus and the others stay. We can let you go home," the pilot said. Grayson relaxed slightly, but for whatever reason the entire group tensed as the blonde man seemed to unwind. He stood there for a moment, his back to the group. The sounds of warfare continued behind, but no one made a move.

"Go home," Grayson repeated slowly.

There was screaming as Grayson drove the point of his knife into the eye of the pilot, moving on like liquid lightning for the other squadmates.

"GRAYSON!" Richie screamed as he dived after his friend, but the others held him back.

"No, Richie! Something's not right! That's not Grayson!" Alice shrieked as the others fell, one by one. Kojak, who'd finished detaining Georgia, leaped into the fray with Greed and Hohenheim to take down the renegade as Alice backed away with Richie in tow.

"W-what's... what's the matter with him? Why is he doing this? Why is he killing them? They're our friends," Richie wheezed fearfully, tears beginning to stream down his face as the pilot twitched at the bottom of the bay doors, a knife sticking out of his orbital while he moaned piteously.

"He's been reprogrammed," Zhang breathed, watching Greed slam Grayson into the floor of the ship while the other squadmates trained their guns on him.

"Reprogrammed?" Alice asked. Beside Zhang, Guun nodded solemnly, his hands clenched.

"He was one of two survivors from the failed Team Black mission ten years ago. He must've been captured and reprogrammed all these years. He's a mole, and he didn't even know he was. The Crash Coffins... that must've been him," Guun explained, taking a fighting stance as Grayson refused to go down, advancing towards the others. From behind, a creaking noise could be heard as the behemoth went down in a cascade of metal. The two groups were momentarily distracted by the sudden defeat of the thing that had attacked the ship, but Grayson was a single-minded machine of flesh.

He dashed around Hohenheim's guard, though not before being stabbed by a passing strut of metal summoned by the golden-haired alchemist's hand. His knife flew straight, aimed at Alice's face. The young girl was dragged out of the way, and the knife sailed past - straight into Nirvana's side. The distracted alphysicist had been so busy watching Ed's progress that she hadn't noticed the commotion from behind until it was too late. She blinked in confusion as she stared at the knife sticking out of her abdomen, touching it with a look of perplexity.

"What... the...?"

"Get back! GET BACK! OFF THE SHIP!" a trooper shouted, brandishing his gun as Grayson was finally put down with a tranq slug. The tribesmen had not been idle, spreading out around the cargo bays to rush the doors, but now that their armed opponents were getting their wits about themselves, even if they'd been whittled down in number, they backed off.

"Hey, what'd I miss - oh..." Ed asked, staring at the mayhem going on.

Nirvana was on the ground, bleeding out as Thaddeus frantically tried to fix her.

Kojak and Hohenheim were both sitting on top of Grayson, who was fighting to stay awake.

Georgia was trussed like a colt at a rodeo, guarded by a few tribesmen slaves.

Their own team was training guns on them.

Clottie had been forgotten, still twitching in withdrawal-spasms on the ground.

"Great. I shouldn't be surprised," he sighed.

* * *

**A/N: **Aaaah, yet another chapter finished. I'm on a roll today! Here's the next installation of Amestris A.D., for all of your sci-fi, FMA related needs.

Very gladly, I have found that I have two new reviews, from Hikari Hellion (your ire towards Kade is quite amusing - I'm glad you enjoyed the humor so much!) and envyyyyy! I love the input, and I'm sure to keep all the things you've told me in consideration!

I have one new member of the favoriteer army: Shabondy! Greet him/her with open arms! Your love is much appreciated!

However, the subscription army is sadly lacking. There are no new recruits to haze. Alas, tis a sad day.

And, finally, for your favorite part: the discussion questions! _There was a ton of action in this one chapter - are you ready for it to be over yet? Describe any relationship between two or three characters that you think is interesting. What do you find interesting about any aspect of Patron City? Is Greed continually in character, or does he need some retooling? Are the fight scenes interesting, or are they too overplayed? What do you think will happen to Team Black Market now that they have attacked an Oasis ship? What do you think of the programming that has come into play? _

That's all I have for now. Happy Turkey Day! God bless you, and tell the ones you love that you love them! And thank the cook!


	26. Decisions

They were at a standstill. It was like an old desert film, with everyone pointing their guns at everyone else. No one dared move. Ed shucked off the last bits of his tarmac armor, and he finally broke the tense silence by stepping forward.

"That's it! There are enough people hurt! We're wasting time!" Ed shouted, exasperated and sick to his stomach. So many wounded or dying around him...

Hohenheim looked up from his post at the downed pilot's side. He'd healed what he could of the man's eye, though it was unlikely that he'd make a complete recovery without some serious alkahestry and bed rest. His pain was dulled for now. The blond alchemist stood up and stood by his son, one hand on Ed's shoulder.

"My son is right. We need to come to a verdict. What will you allow?" Hohenheim asked, staring at the jaded squadmates who stared back with haunted eyes. Three were still being healed of their injuries, but it was unlikely they'd survive without more medical treatment. Hohenheim didn't know how much Philosopher's stone he had in him to use. Over the long years, his supply of souls had depleted as the Xerxians sacrificed their own life force and consciousness to help those they encountered. Hohenheim had learned quickly to conserve his abilities for those injuries bordered by Death but not guaranteed it.

Ed rolled his shoulders tensely as the squad mates talked between themselves and a communicator linked directly to Oasis. Finally, one of them stepped up.

"We've talked to command. We will amend our prior statement. The slave tribesmen may come aboard, as well as Team Black. So may Thaddeus, as he is already a refugee of Patron City and a survivor of the electronic bonding experiment and therefore will provide much information on the subject. We will accept the programmed members of your team. However, we must ask the homunculus and his aide to stay behind. The assassin must also stay here. No Living Weapons may be allowed to enter Oasis," a black squad leader said, his tenor shaking slightly as a tear streamed down his face. He stared at Kojak with hurt.

Kojak bowed his head. He understood the measures they were taking. At least they could bring most.

"What do you say, folks?" he asked in gravelly tones.

"How many sick bays do you have?" Thaddeus asked gravely, cradling Nirvana. She was shivering in his arms, eyes deadened as she stared off into space. Her every fiber was tensed with pain, and her breathing was shallow. Ed fought the urge to race towards his teammate. He knew that taking up more space would do more harm than good.

"Four. We may not have room for her. Many of our men are wounded," he stated. It was as if a silent agreement had been reached. As if on a cue, slowly everyone began to fall in line, ready to be scanned into the ship. All weapons were to be confiscated. All were to be monitored closely by armed guard.

One by one, they stepped through the corridor of personnel, though Grayson and Georgia literally had to be bound and gagged with an assortment of zip ties, mouth gags, shackles, and sedatives. Ed watched the procession with some grim satisfaction. He looked at Greed, whose face was unreadable.

"So?" Ed asked, lingering towards the back of the line. Behind Greed, the hunk of metal continued to burn. Luckily, Ed had made sure that Kade was safely cushioned in a massive ball of flame retardant foam. That foam bath he'd been given all those weeks ago had given him the idea.

"I guess I'm not going. And don't worry about the chick. I'll take care of her," he said, pointing to the still-jerking Clottie. Ed's eyes tightened. It was clear she still awake and unable to do anything. She just had some awfully bad luck.

"You gonna be alright?" Ed asked. Greed was silent for a little while. If Ed didn't know better, he would've guessed that the homunculus might actually look a little hurt and disappointed. But of course, that was just a trick of the light.

"Yeah. I hadn't thought much of them taking me anyways," Greed said with a smirk. "Silly little optimist."

Ed spluttered just as there was a small commotion in the bay doors. Ed looked over with furrowed brows as a soldier argued with Thaddeus.

"She's clear! Can't you see she's bleeding to death?!" Thaddeus shouted in frustration, carrying Nirvana. She was deathly pale at this point, the knife sticking out of her side winking in the sunlight. The soldier shook his head.

"She's got a tracker bug on her somewhere," the soldier said.

"So's this one," another said, pointing to Alice, who'd just stepped into a second line.

"Ed?" Alice asked, her face displaying plumb worry. The soldier turned her arm over, showing the slave tats on her arm. He waved a weird, flat black wand over it, and it beeped with a green light. The soldier shook his head.

"She's hot. Slaves can't leave the city. The other tribesmen have already been shorted out somewhere else. We don't have the equipment or time to short you out here with what we have," the soldier contending with Thaddeus, standing solidly.

"Crap," Ed muttered under his breath, pulling up his own sleeve. His slave tattoo seemed to smile at him garishly, the bar code screaming irony. Just when it seemed like they were so close...

"This one's got a slave tat," another soldier said, pulling Zhang out of line. He protested loudly in Xingese, spluttering, and the soldiers looked to each other.

Kojak tried to negotiate. He stepped towards the soldiers from behind the line of menacing men, and he asked, "Hey, hey, fellas, there's gotta be somethin' we can do. We can't leave half our team because they've been slave tatted. I thought you said your tattoos were shorted out already." His last sentence, directed towards Alice, caught her attention.

She nodded her head.

"Nirvana did it. She put in nanos that fixed the cellhacker poison and shorted out our tattoos," Alice said with a quiver in her voice. Thaddeus' face fell.

"Maybe they did about two years ago, but these days tracker tats are impervious to nano alteration. They immediately kill the nanos that get anywhere near them with short electrical pulses. The tattoos are still live," Thaddeus said, shifting Nirvana. She whimpered in pain, and he shushed her gently, cooing at her in an attempt at comfort.

Ed felt as if someone had filled his stomach with lead. It appeared they were back at square one.

"There's no time to keep talking about this. Either they're going or they're not," the aide said, still playing with his tablet. The aide lifted his eyes slightly, almost in an annoyed fashion. "Father will find out you're here pretty quick, if he hasn't figured out already. Not to mention _that _sort of mess doesn't show up every day."

He pointed behind him to the metal behemoth still smoking. It was gaining a lot of stares from those that could see it, and it was obvious that a clean up crew was coming.

"New plan - I'll take the slaves and the other friendlies you _obviously _don't want, and you get to keep the rest of the team. Even split. Capice?" Greed suggested, and reluctantly they agreed with a few nods to one another.

"Get in the car," Greed ordered. Hastily, they began saying their goodbyes.

Ed watched as the team that had sort of become his family parted ways. Kojak kissed Nirvana's forehead, regret in his eyes as Thaddeus allowed them a brief conversation before hustling her into the car. Alice cried as she clung to Imal, the older boy coming close to tears as he buried his face into his sister's hair. Zhang and Guun had a private conversation before Zhang, of his own will, stepped off the ship with a solid stare. Richie shook Ed's hand as the two shared a sad smile. Ed approached his father hesitantly before he was suddenly engulfed in a large bear hug. For once, he reciprocated the sentiment.

Greed watched from a distance, a strange look in his eyes. His aide, having been with the homunculus long enough to recognize it, patted his shoulder softly, but discretely. With that, the aide continued to flick through his tablet.

Ed extricated himself from the goodbyes first, feeling the eyes of the squadron following him as he headed towards the car. He slowed as he heard a quiet argument.

"You need to get on that ship, Thad. This is your last chance. You can finally get out of here," Nirvana struggled to say as Thaddeus tearfully shook his head.

"I'm not going to leave you here like this. Without proper treatment, you'll die," he whispered, his voice shaking. All the emotions of the day had broken a dam. Everyone felt beaten and worn down. They were on the last leg of their journey, but for some it was just the beginning of another one. Ed's eyes tightened as Nirvana gently pushed Thaddeus away. She shook her head.

"I'm tougher than you give me credit for. Get out of here. I had a few years to enjoy the stale air. Its your turn. It's a screwed up place, but there's freedom there, Thaddeus. As stupid and wrong and terrible as that place is, it has freedom. That's enough," Nirvana said forcefully. Ed looked at his feet, standing to the side.

His mind crept towards Winry, and his heart clenched in sympathy as Thaddeus was silent. He knew too well what it was like to suffer for someone he loved. And to have that person try so hard to push you away from suffering for them was a painful, but needed, process. Sometimes, all they wanted was for you to be happy. He grasped his pocket watch as Thaddeus very slowly, very solemnly spoke to Nirvana in even quieter tones. The two gave each other a peck, the only sign of affection the two had ever expressed openly towards each other since Ed had known them, and he painfully began to walk away.

With that, all of the others piled into the car. As the clean-up crew arrived, the people who'd been left behind watched the transport fly off for Briggs, wondering if they were ever going to see their compatriots again.

With the way things were going, that chance was slim.

* * *

The car was bigger on the inside than it looked. Nirvana was put in a sort of 'medical' bay that bulged out from the main compartment, and the others who'd stayed managed to fit rather comfortably. It was a car that was built rather long with two benches of soft, leather seats. Usually a large table was in the middle of the aisle, but it was currently missing. There were windows, but they were blacked out for obvious reasons. However, they were blacked out both ways, giving the car a very secluded, intimate feel. It was a smooth ride that gave the effect they weren't even moving at all.

Greed sat in the middle of all this, completely comfortable even though a grand majority of his passengers were staring at him with looks ranging from disdain to wariness. Edward and Greed's aide, who was driving, seemed to be the only people comfortable in his presence.

Ed shifted Clottie during the silent ride, the young woman still shaking almost uncontrollably. She was exhausted, and Ed could tell. He wished he had Al's knack for comforting people when they were in pain or suffering, but that just wasn't his strong suit. So, instead, he decided the best course of action was to lay out a plan.

"What do we do once we get to our destination? Hide out? Lay low? Burn the city? Go after the big fish and ignore the small fry?" Ed asked. Alice raised her hand.

"What's a small fry?" she asked.

Greed cut in quickly to avoid an unnecessarily long conversation on the subject of larval fish.

"We regroup and try to get in contact with your big, bad resistance group-," Greed said, but he was interrupted by Zhang.

"We're not a resistance group. We're a _haven,"_ Zhang said in a 'duh' tone.

"Point being, you and your kin need to be linked up pronto -"

This time Ed raised his hand.

"What's 'linked up'?"

"Connected. _Anyhow. _We'll get all of you linked up, and I'll make sure it's a secure channel, triple-encrypted, voice change-overs, the whole nine yards."

"What's triple -?"

"What's 'whole nine'-?"

"_Hold all questions until the end of my lecture, thank you. _It'll be as tight as a camel's nose in a sand storm. _Don't you dare ask me what a camel is._ The last place anyone would expect to look for a communications link to that hole in the desert is a homunculus' stronghold. You guys will recuperate and pass on information. In the meantime, we'll come up with some sort of plan to get to Father," Greed spit out all at once in the hopes that he'd avoid further interruptions. He adjusted his sunglasses, only to have them ironically fly off his face as the car jolted to a stop. The entire cabin was thrown in disarray, with bodies flying everywhere. Nirvana was saved from this chaos by dint of being strapped to the recuperation table in the med chamber.

"What in Father's name-?" Greed muttered under his breath as he managed to heave himself off the floor. There was a massive bundle of bodies on the floor of the car, as the seats were facing each other limousine-style. The passengers groaned as they began to untangle themselves. Edward was the next to disengage himself from the mass of bodies.

"What's going on?" Ed asked, rubbing his face. He had a boot print planted firmly on his head where Zhang's size 10 right male foot smashed into it. Greed tapped the window, and several blue circles spiraled from his fingertips. He swiped one of the circles around, and the opacity of the window faded while Edward began to extricate Clottie from the group on the floor.

"Aw, crap. Another lev crash. I should've guessed it. I guess Lust's been desperate lately for a little mayhem after the police cleaned up that gang Underground," Greed groaned as he stared at the destruction and frantic activity going on just outside their door. All traffic had bottlenecked as robot traffic minders redirected them away from the elevated train wreck. Most of the passengers pressed their faces to the glass, ogling with horror.

The maglev train had skewed off the tracks somehow, leaving the middle of the train mangled in a twist of shiny metal, the windows splattered with gore from the passengers. People had attempted to cover the windows with what they had, but there was only so much they could do. The other half of the maglev was dangling off the elevated track, and people were continuing to fall out of the cars that hung in space. The passengers of the car watched in sick terror as people jumped off the train and to their deaths nearly five hundred feet below. They themselves were hanging in space, and it took Edward a few moments to realize that they were not on a road but on thin air.

"Holy crap," Ed breathed, watching it all with a heavy feeling of dread. The traffic had been diverted around the crash, but under the train it was evident that the thing that had thrown it off the track was a levitating car. It was completely crushed, with no hope for the people who'd occupied it.

"What do you mean, Lust is desperate? Is she another homunculi?" Alice asked, peeling herself from the window. She seated herself across from her owner, and Greed ran a hand through his spiky hair.

"Yeah, she is. And she's probably one of the least influential of us. Lately, she's been on the backburner, so she must've caused the accident to ramp up some of her power. You guys know about the circles, right?" Greed asked.

The teenagers nodded in unison as they started to seat themselves. The scene of the crash crawled by.

"Well, if people die to put their souls into the circles under the city, do you think Lust is going to wait for them to kick it?" Greed asked, stating it as nonchalantly as asking if one plus one equaled two.

"You're telling me that you condone 'accidents' like this to get power?" Zhang asked, horrified.

"Not all of us. Some of us have the more dangerous parts of the city, so it's not as bad. The other homunculi who live in better districts like this one have to ramp up their death toll. The humans never really question any of it. We're shadow creatures to them. We exist, but they halfway don't believe it. They don't want to," Greed explained, and the car fell awkwardly silent as they stared at the homunculi.

"You never change," Ed muttered to himself as he looked back out the window to the chaos of humanity going on outside. "Still using people to further your own ends, usually at the cost of their lives. Am I right?"

Greed was quiet for a moment.

"I'll have you know, the only trains I crash are the ones transporting child molesters. A benefit to society they do not appear to be."

Ed stared at Greed for a minute before spluttering, "You can load up entire trains with child molesters?!"

"It's down right common."

"What is _wrong _with you people?!"

* * *

About two hours later, they punched through traffic and finally made it to Greed's humble abode. Nirvana was lifted off of the recoop table and put on a special trolley filled with gel. She flashed two fingers to her other teammates as Greed's attendants began to wheel her out of the garage they'd parked in. Clottie wasn't far behind on another stretcher.

"Deuces, broskis," Nirvana croaked optimistically. Ed gave her a perplexed look before she flashed _him _a very specific hand sign that he understood all too well. He was on the verge of returning the sentiment when Greed motioned for the team members to follow him.

"Will they be okay?" Ed asked Greed, trying to keep up with his long stride as they approached a set of double doors done in a Xingese style.

"Nirvana'll be fine, even if she'll whine about it until kingdom come. As for Ingra - man, that name really stuck - shock withdrawal is tough, but you're pretty well and good, physically, for the first day. You just feel like crap. The day after that, though, your mind gets a little fuzzy. Sort of like being on a bad trip except there's no high to go with it," Greed explained, keying in a code to the door.

"What's a 'bad trip'?" Ed muttered to himself as the doors opened. Was it some sort of mental journey that became increasingly worse? Sort of like a nightmare? Or was it a literal bad trip? What did a high have anything to do with it? He was so confused.

"Welcome, my dear friends, to the Devil's Nest!" Greed announced as he flung open the doors to reveal a massive room. Ed and Zhang ogled. Alice, already familiar with the place, could only giggle at the boys and their awestruck looks.

It was a raver's fantasy. The room was split between three levels, each of them connected by a variety of lifts and staircases and pulley mechanisms. Tubes went through all three levels, and they were backlit by fluorescent lights that gave them an otherworldly glow. Speakers were embedded into the walls, and there were so many love seats, couches, and long, flat settees that the place would've rivaled any furniture warehouse. Bars lined the alcoves, glowingly backlit with odd assortments of drinks in a variety of neon colors. The walls were painted black, splattered in neon colors that no doubt glowed under black light. The entire compound looked ready to party, but at the moment it was completely empty.

Greed led them through the maze of columns, couches, and transport tubes to his personal glass room on the third level where he could overlook his kingdom. From the outside, it was a shiny, reflective array of windows sitting there on a balcony, overlooking the three layers of chaotic architecture. When the guests stepped inside through a special staircase, it was a clear room with glass walls that looked out, much like windows.

Zhang whistled appreciatively at the warm, decadent furniture. This guy really knew how to live.

"This is my nest, and I'm proud to call it home. We've got rooms off from the first and second floor, so feel free to pick one of them. They overlook the city, and I hope you'll find them agreeable. In the meantime, Alice and I are going to link up a communications channel to Oasis and see if any dogs are barking, shall we?" Greed said. Alice, who'd been here already, nodded and immediately walked to a door at the back of the room labeled with an indigo box, obviously indicative of slaves.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Go ahead, get out of here," Greed said, shooing them with his hands.

Ed and Zhang looked at each other, and they shrugged. They started down a random hallway, deciding that was just as good as any.

"Be ready for dinner at 10! Daniel cooks a good quiche! And with real eggs, not the synthetic stuff!" Greed called after them.

"Mr. Greed, sir, you have an appointment at three with Lust to play some handball, and then you've got another conference with the Madrigal Crime Syndicate around six thirty," Greed's attendant informed him briskly, his eyes still glued to his tablet. Greed patted him on the shoulder rough enough to almost make the man fall over.

"Here, this is what we'll do. We're going to the lounge, you're going to pull out the panties that're tied up somewhere in your rectum, and we're going to have a few drinks. We've had enough for one day."

* * *

"Holy crap! Look at all this! The floor's got _fish _in it!" Zhang gushed, kneeling down to look at a sucker fish that was stuck to the surface of the glass top to the aquarium just below his feet.

Ed looked around, not the least bit surprised by the opulence of this room. The ceiling skimmed fifty feet above their heads, dangling with iridescent bars that seemed to be trapezes, all of them interwoven with long sheaves of dark red cloth. The ceiling was peaked, giving the room an endless look. There was an entire bar, a kitchenette, a bathroom the size of the Xerxes ruins (decorated accordingly), and two beds sitting about ten feet across from each other. There were plenty of other amenities, Ed was sure, but he couldn't find the rest of them. Even the lights that gave the room its glow were hidden so well that he couldn't find a single fixture.

He sat down on the bed as Zhang explored the room they'd claimed. His mind was roiling with the past couple of days. They were now well and truly on their own, though they had a very powerful ally. Alice was busy patching together a connection to Oasis, meaning they'd finally be able to speak to Command after so many weeks of silence. He laced his fingers together, frowning deeply at the floor where a shark lazed just beneath his soles. Frankly, he was worried what would happen when they did contact Command. Even worse, what if they decided to reject their call?

Nevertheless, it was clear to Ed that his own personal mission was not yet done. He at least had that goal to look towards.

"Ed? You okay?" Zhang asked, looking back at his friend. Ed lifted his head, not realizing it had been bowed.

"Huh? Yeah. I'm... I'm fine. Why?" Ed asked.

Zhang shrugged helplessly, at a loss for words. The Xingese emissary was good at hiding his emotions, a trait normal for his occupation. Edward was less so, and it surprised the young man. Even when they'd first met, Zhang had been amazed at Ed's open display of his thoughts and feelings, a rarity in this day and age where everyone seemed to play their very happiness close to the vest.

"We're going to be fine, y'know? We'll get out," Zhang assured Ed. The blonde slowly started to smile, albeit a sad one. Wearily, Ed got up and stood next to his compatriot by a large, ornately painted wall.

"You wanna see something cool?" Zhang asked. Ed raised his eyebrow skeptically. He honestly wasn't sure if he was going to enjoy this 'cool' something, considering the fact that he'd been introduced to a lot of things that he considered morally or stylistically depraved. Rap music was the worst form of musical art he'd ever heard in his life. He didn't understand Alice's fascination with it.

"Sure," Ed sighed.

Zhang clapped his hands three times, and the wall in front of them suddenly seemed to dissipate into a shifting screen of smoke. Ed's eyes widened and he pinwheeled backwards as the entire city seemed to be laid out before him, great spires and running trains going back and forth between buildings and sparkling cars zipping over highways and skyways. Zhang clapped his hands twice, and the smoke screen disappeared entirely, leaving just a window that seemed to open a portal to an entirely different world.

Ed started a slow laugh. Pretty soon it turned into a guffaw, and Zhang smirked.

"You practically had me crapping my pants! Look at that! How high up must we be? Look - there's the arena! And there's the loading pads and - I can see practically everything up here!" Ed enthused, staring out at the panorama. Zhang shrugged his narrow shoulders.

"We have windows like this at home. They're not real windows, just screens. On the outside, there's a thousand cameras taking video of what's going on outside. Knowing this room, the walls are probably ten feet thick. We're not the only ones who hate the homunculi," Zhang said, tapping the wall.

Suddenly, the pitter patter of footsteps caught their attention. Ed recognized the sound of small feet in cheap sandals slapping the floor, and he walked over to the door to peek his head out of the room. Alice zoomed past so fast, Ed thought she'd take his nose off, but she kept running, not recognizing that she'd missed them.

"EDEDEDEDEDEDED!" Alice shouted all the way down the hall as Ed watched her retreating back, absolutely perplexed. He muttered a curse to himself as he realized he'd have to track her down to find out what the commotion was.

"Lemme guess. Alice?"

"Oh yeah."

* * *

"You might want to explain all of this all over again," Ed suggested, rubbing his temples in a lost fashion. He, Zhang, and Alice were sitting in what he guessed was Alice's room in the slave quarter. For a slave... Alice honestly lived better than both the boys had while they were at the arena. Heck, even now she lived better than they did with all the gadgetry and neat doodads surrounding her. Zhang had practically fallen over with envy.

Alice sighed as she crossed her arms, staring at the computer screen. Ed had listened to everything she said with attentiveness, but he had absolutely _no _idea what any of it meant. A lot of stuff about wavelength and blocking and jamming (though Ed didn't know how fruit preserves played into this) and yada yada yada. Even Zhang looked like he might be a little lost. The black-haired Xingese boy bit his lip as he shared a look with Ed, unwilling to admit his ineptitude.

"It looks like Command has blocked all signals from Patron City. I've tried changing IP addresses, I've tried modifying the wavelength so that we could go by radio, I've tried to hack the jammer they've got set up so that the signal will go through, but everything I try has been blocked so hard, I thought about using a laxative on my computer. Nothing's going in or out," Alice groaned. Ed stared at the screen before suddenly taking the keyboard, pulling up an email site, and typing out a quick message.

"Ed... what are you doing?" Zhang asked.

"This is the Internet, right?" Ed asked.

"Uh... yeah, yeah it is," Alice answered in a deadpan manner. She brushed a hand through her hair, the purple at the bottom giving way to brown.

"Well, you told me that Patron City basically copied Oasis Prime's idea. And from what you've told me, the both of them have the same internet connection. And also from what you've told me, people in Oasis use this email site anyways. So I'm going to try emailing Mustang and seeing what comes up," Ed stated.

"That's so insecure, though! What if someone goes through the email?!" Alice gasped.

"Do you think I'm stupid or something? There are millions upon millions of people in Patron City. They can't go through everybody's email. And we're in a _homunculus stronghold. _They'll be thinking we're running an operation. I'll just send an email and tell her not to reply, and I'll stick something in to let her know it really is me. Hold your horses," Ed grumbled, continuing to peck type his tiny message.

However, there _was _one thing he was using that might just give him a little bit of credibility besides his email address. He was pretty sure that everyone had forgotten about Morse code by now.

He tapped out a line of dots, the message playing out as just a random assortment to anyone who looked at it.

_Roses are red stop Violets are blue stop This is Ed stop We want to talk to you stop P stop S stop Destroyed three different communications devices in the past six months stop nearly killed you with a rubber bullet stop_

"What the heck is _that?_" Alice asked incredulously, practically shoving her face into the computer screen in an attempt to get a closer look at the dotted message. Ed shoved her into Zhang's lap and ordered, "Keep her." _  
_

Zhang did not look too perturbed to handle this command. He put on a simple smile as he held the girl in his lap, not minding at all that she was struggling.

Ed finished his message, and he clicked 'send'. He was glad he still remembered Morse. He and Al used to tap it on the bed frame when they were kids, sending messages to each other when they were supposed to be asleep. Of course, their mother caught on eventually, and they ended up in separate rooms. Obviously, this did nothing to stop their late night tap sessions.

They sat there, and they waited.

And waited.

And _waited... _

Before they knew it, Zhang was sprawled out on Alice's bed with the young slave girl curled up at the headboard, Ed listlessly playing a simple game on Alice's computer that consisted of bouncing a digital dot across a screen with an equally digital paddle. Each hit from the opposing player (who happened to be a computer - Ed was still trying to figure that out) made a _ping. _Ed had lost three times out of fifty-seven. He was proud of this fact, though he was playing on easy mode.

Suddenly a mail icon popped up in the corner, and Ed practically jumped out of his chair. He clicked on the tab, pulling up the email, and there the message sat in the folder.

"Zhang. Alice."

The Xingese emissary practically snored. The younger girl was no better.

"Zhang. Alice."

Alice turned over, almost putting her face in the other boy's hair. Zhang smiled in his sleep. Ed rolled his eyes at the schmaltzy display, and he picked up the nearest thing, a music player the size of his thumb. Taking careful aim with one eye, Ed chucked it at Zhang. Amazingly enough, it bounced off his forehead and landed on top of Alice's face, pegging her in the eye.

"OUCH!"

"WHAT THE F-"

Ed pointed to the computer, and the two forgot about their collective pains to scramble off the bed and see the great unveiling. Ed poised his finger over the mouse pad, hovering over it uncertainly. Alice was done with the waiting, though, and she beat him to the punch, pounding the button herself.

"Hey," Ed complained. Alice shrugged without regrets.

"You snooze, you lose," she said. The three of them glued their eyes to the computer screen immediately, skimming over the message. Which was... in Morse.

"I don't think there's a thing on Doodle Translate for this," Alice quipped, and Ed reached for a pad and pencil. It took him a moment to find it, but he managed to jot down the translation.

_Got your message. Contact The Splinters. They will protect you. Didn't know they were still active. LAY LOW. Will send transport. Ed your hide is mine._

"That's... awfully brief," Zhang noted as Ed stuck the note to the computer. He'd never get over the whole 'sticky notes' idea. Whoever came up with that was a genius.

"What else did you expect? A novel?" Ed asked. "It's enough."

Of course... chances were those orders meant absolutely nothing. Ed didn't ever take orders well. Laying low was... never his strong suit.

"Edward... Elric?" a familiar voice said, and Ed turned back to see Greed's aide standing in the doorway, prim and bored as always. He was playing on his tablet, lazily flipping a finger across the screen.

"Uh, yes?"

"You're wanted in the hospital wing on the third floor. It appears a certain... Clottichilda wants to see you," the aid said, looking up at Ed.

And for a moment, Ed felt like he was being burrowed through with those eyes, like they were rooting out every secret he held in his being, a voracious worm trying to tunnel straight out of his soul. But the gaze didn't last, and the eyes went back down to the tablet.

"...Sure," Ed stated.

* * *

The sick bay was nearly empty, containing a row of beds that remained unoccupied. One at the end near the window screen held an occupant, bald and sweating. She thrashed against the sheets as if fighting imaginary enemies, and straps held her down. Her vision swirled around her like a fast-spinning mobile that refused to slow down, never focusing on any one thing. Ed watched her hesitantly from the back of the hall, almost unwilling to go and see her. He took a deep breath, trying to hold back his revulsion at the sickly warrior on the bed.

He'd seen people like that, at one time. He never thought he'd see it again. There'd been one incident that had involved checking out an opium den to case out an alchemist dealing illegal substances. They had interrogated a man who'd just been pulled off the drug for nearly a week, and he'd convulsed and spit the same way. When they'd found the den, Edward and Alphonse found nearly fifty people jam packed in a tiny room with one window, a single vent, and a concrete floor. Every single one was lost in a chemically induced haze, a dead look in their eyes. Ed would never forget the empty stares, and he couldn't understand why someone would do that to themselves, throwing away something as precious as their own consciousness.

The same feeling of revulsion sat on his shoulders like a panting vulture, but he tried to push past it. He didn't know Clottie's or Ingra's or whatever her name's situation, or how she'd come to be this way, or if it was even voluntary. From what he'd gathered, she'd been a peak fighter up until this point.

Clottie grunted on the bed, trying to scratch her skin. As Ed neared her bedside, it was obvious that she'd attempted to itch at her flesh, deep furrows in her arms where she'd tried to get rid of the ants that weren't there. He sat down in the chair, not even noticed. She was crying, and Ed felt his heart lurch.

Did she really want him right now? It seemed like she was completely out of it, lost in the nightmare that had been brought on by the withdrawal. Her brow furrowed, sweat dripping off of her. Cautiously, he put a hand out and touched her bald head. The cold metal pressed against the flesh, and steam briefly played over his fingers. She must be burning up. He looked for some sort of call button (surely those hadn't changed, had they?), but it seemed that the coolness was enough to begin calming her down.

"Not my... finest... moment," Clottie admitted painfully. Her stomach went through a spasm, and she whimpered.

"Isn't there some sort of drug they can give you? They seem to have a pill for everything," Ed muttered, looking at her abused body. It jerked and twitched now and again, but it seemed she was going through a wave of clarity. She looked at him with jaded eyes.

"Not for this, they don't," Clottie forced out. She leaned her head back as she took a deep breath, tired. Edward's eyes tightened as she tried to itch her leg, but the restraints wouldn't let her.

"Call the nurse. I need to use the bathroom," Clottie said, and Ed was about to do as she asked until a voice said, "Inquiry noted. Sending."

He'd never get used to that.

"You wanted me?"

"Side pocket to my pants. There's a black box in there," Clottie said, looking down at the mentioned pocket. Ed did as he was told, pulling out a shiny black prism that glistened purple in the soft lighting. It seemed to be made of glass, but it wasn't quite that fragile. Yet, it wasn't a plastic either. In fact, it was like a rock, very smooth and solid.

"There's a port... on the side. Link it up as... soon as you... can... Guard that with your life," Clottie sighed, her limbs locking and unlocking randomly. A nurse entered their space suddenly, dressed (of course) in a seductively short uniform with fishnet and long, curling red hair. Ed's head almost popped off his shoulders.

_Was that really necessary?! They were supposed to be lowering blood pressure, not raising it!_

"She wanted something?" the nurse asked, her voice sweetly high-pitched, quite incongruous with her appearance. Ed tried to stare only at her white high heels, his heart stuck in his throat.

"Uh... She was... hoping to go to the bathroom," Ed stated. Clottie chuckled from the bed.

"I never thought our savior was so human. Or easily-," Clottie noted as the nurse undid the straps and lifted Clottie out of the bed, helping her to stand.

"Is there a port anywhere around here I can plug this in?" Ed asked the nurse, interrupting and daring to look up. He rubbed a finger under his nose, surreptitiously checking for blood. It would be awfully rude to have it dripping out of his nose as he was asking this... _nurse _for help with a device that seemed so simple.

"Oh, yes! Down there, in that stand right next to you. It's a universal port - metallic puddy," the nurse explained with a smile on her face, so kind and thoughtful and voluptuous and bu- ANYWAYS.

Ed turned his back on the two as he tried to get his hormones under control, fiddling under the stand by the bed for the universal port. The top of the bed stand was supposed to be like a computer screen (ugh, more touch screens for him to break), and a projector's eye was at the front of it in order to produce holographic tri-dimensional graphics. Ed finally found the port by much fumbling and guessing, and he plugged it in.

A boot up sequence sounded on the computer before a holographic image stood on top of the table, miniaturized but almost real as life. Ed's eyes widened as he stared at the one foot tall rendition, his heart stopping as his breath crashed at a halt in his throat.

"Hey, Ed. Long time, no see," Alphonse said with a smile.

* * *

**A/N: **PHEW. Long time, no see, indeed. So, I'm going to make this quick: all updates will be sporadic. I apologize in advance.

I won't bother with the discussion questions this time. Instead- ask any question, any question at all! I'll answer it to the best of my ability! I'll be sure to post the questions and their answers in the next chapter as well, so everyone can see and no longer wonder. A person who asks a question is a fool for a moment, and a person who never asks a question is a fool forever.

Big thanks to my reviewers and subscribers and favoriteers! I apologize that I don't have an entire spiel with you guys, but I still love you all! I think you'd prefer having the chapter after all...

God bless, and happy reading!


	27. 1917: Charge of the Light Brigade

"Hey, just... wanted to talk," Roy said. He wrung his gloves together.

The years had been hectic. Their fledgling group had hid out in the Great Desert in the hopes that, out in the wasteland, they'd be left alone to bide their time. Alphonse had been busy designing a town that could be easily hidden, and the alchemists they'd recruited were helping on that front. Hohenheim was also pitching in, suggesting it be underground, just to get out of that blasted, never-ending sun. Most everyone had been on board with that little piece of input, much to Alphonse's frustration and amusement.

As Al continued to create their stronghold, spies were sent into Central. Right now, times were peaceful. Their group had yet to make another move. Others had joined them, those that knew the truth or had found out about it or had heard the rumors of the thing that lived beneath their city. Propaganda was easy to spread, especially now around the anniversary of the dissenters' failed attempt on the government. Bradley's hold had only become tighter, and this actually succeeded in helping the newborn group grow.

Now was the crucial moment. Father had plans, big plans. Hohenheim had subverted them, mostly, with the help of the souls that still lived within him by creating that 'reverse' circle. However, something told Roy that wouldn't be enough. The secret of the eclipse and its importance had been revealed to Roy, and he wondered if Father dare attempt another Promised Day without it.

A part of Roy was certain he would.

They had nearly three thousand men within Central City alone, hiding away in little pockets, like pellets of poison waiting to be released into the body of the metropolis. It wouldn't be long.

Roy looked up at the sky. It was still very dark, the stars blotted out by the lights of the city. However, this locale was just far enough out that the north star was still visible. It was cloudless, with the moon shining bright overhead at a half its phase.

This was Maes' favorite time of contemplation. When they were young soldiers, they'd stay up late, just so that Maes could watch the moon pass overhead. He was a night owl, and it had _killed _the rest of his platoon because he'd prattle on about his girlfriend into the wee hours of the morning with Roy. Of course, Roy was a dutiful friend, and he allowed Maes that small comfort.

In reality, Maes probably wasn't cut out to be a soldier. It wasn't that he lacked the courage or the strength or the physical prowess or the brains. No, what he _had _was a heart, and it was the most dangerous thing to carry with you on to the battlefield. Someone, somewhere, out there was going to die at your hand if you were lucky, or you were going to be that someone if you were not. Talking about Gracia had helped Maes cope with the psychological burden, the single thing Roy felt as if he himself could not shake while they'd been in Ishval. If it allowed him to relieve the pressure of being a soldier, Roy let him do it.

Thinking of his lifelong friend brought him back to his current situation. He wondered if Maes would approve of how he'd handled the situation. More likely than not, he'd scream over how he'd left men behind when the coup failed (not his fault, he'd add, but that wouldn't matter - what did was that he _did _leave people behind, including... certain persons), he'd rattle off all the other options he'd had, but he would've probably supported his initiative and fast thinking. The last few years, yes, had been _hectic._

Gathering supplies. Gathering information. Gathering _time. _It had just been a long period of gathering the needed materials, pulling all the little strings of the net tighter and tighter around Central. Roy was certain that Father knew that they were there, but he didn't think Father knew _exactly _what they were doing or how many there were in _his _city. Though they were persecuted and hunted relentlessly throughout the country, there was no 'marker' that designated their group. They hadn't had the time nor the skill to create for themselves an emblem, and that was a sort of blessing. Because of the lack of a physically incriminating token such as a button, a handkerchief, an armband, it was awfully hard for anybody to tell who was from Mustang's little posse and who was not.

But they were going to need a banner soon. Men didn't last long under a regime or a group that had no solid identity. Their mission was clear, yes, but they needed a _name. _There had to be something physical that bound their group together, or else it would eventually fall to pieces. It was a psychological thing, triggered by the need for something in the here and now.

His people needed something to be proud of.

"I'm sorry I couldn't come last year. Things got a little busy. You know how it is."

The grass under his feet was wet with dew. It was still early August, but the air was beginning to cool already. Soon, fall would set in, followed by a cold, wet winter. It would be miserable here, but out in the desert, under the sand, they'd be kept dry and warm. The snow rarely came on to the Great Expanse, and he briefly thought about the Briggs base, which they'd been forced to abandon. Perhaps it was time to see if they couldn't steal it back again.

"I talked to your wife, and she said she'll be coming with us. She just left last night, and they're on a train bound for Xing. We've got people there who are helping us."

He'd explained everything to her. The homunculi, the fuhrer, the entire bit and piece. He'd been afraid that she might crack under the weight of so much new information, but she held up well. Roy could proudly say he'd underestimated her. It had taken a little under fifteen minutes to pack all their worldly possessions and buy the train ticket. He'd given her a Xingese pass, a real one (considering his contacts in Xing), and she'd departed late into the night. She was to join them at the bunker not long after that, and he hoped that he'd done the right thing.

"Things have changed quite a bit, you know. Havoc somehow found a girlfriend," Roy chuckled, putting his hands in his coat pockets. "She's a desk clerk, real pretty. He won't admit it, but he's absolutely gaga over her, and she's about the same. I swear, the next time I hear the words 'honey bear' and 'cutie booty', I'll strangle them both with that red string tied to their pinkies."

The birds chirped, and Roy noted it ominously. When the storm arrives, the birds flee. Of course, this wasn't the normal sort of 'storm', but animals had an uncanny knack for getting out of the way. Roy remembered a dog kennel that had gone absolutely crazy the night before the real surge into Ishval had started. You would've thought a rabbit were running back and forth in front of the cages, toying with them. Perhaps that was exactly what had happened. In any case, none of them slept that night.

"Valman's got gout, which is why he's not here. I thought I saw him hobble after our truck once it left the garage bay, shouting for us to come back and take him with us so he could die on the battlefield. Heh, it's going to take a lot more than a swollen ankle to keep him down. It's a good thing, because I can leave him in charge."

The crickets were giving a final song, the ode to the end of summer. It would soon be the beginning of the end, in more ways than one. Harmoniously, the creatures of the night put in their little solos and melodies, the solemn 'hoot hoot' of an owl adding a bit of darkness to the ensemble. Roy had missed the sounds of animals, having become used to the quiet scrabble of desert mice on hot sand or foxes digging holes in just about everybody's yard. The shriek of a desert hawk is nothing like the feathery soft hoot of a barn owl. It surprised Roy how much he'd missed his home country and its inhabitants.

_And if we succeed, perhaps they'll survive to see another day. _

"Al's grown up so much. He's almost as tall as I am now, and he's just seventeen years old. He finally got his strength back, and now even _he _gives me a run for my money if we try to spar. I think I'm getting old," Roy joked.

He slowly sat himself down in front of the tombstone, never minding the wet grass or the coolness of the early morning. He winced as his joints protested. A life of physical, hard labor would do that to a man. Since building a life out in the ruins, things had been nonstop work, but at least there was work to do. It was much worse to sit and fiddle, let his bones rot in his body, watch his muscles fade, and his joints lock up.

Roy thought of Havoc, and his eyes tightened ever so slightly. It had been especially hard on the wheelchair bound veteran who needed a personal nurse everywhere he went due to his paraplegic status. Though Havoc had been indispensable concerning their supplies, especially in the department of ammunition, his physical inability to help with any of the building or regular day-to-day work had truly taken a toll on him. He did what he could, where he could, with what he had. It was funny to watch him sit there near the depot where they picked up their passengers because he almost always came back burdened to the wheels with bag upon bag upon bag.

"Wish you could've shared this hell with me. You must be cozy down there. At least it's warm," Roy noted, staring at the name of the headstone. He smiled ever so slightly, clenching his hands at his knees.

_Maes Hughes_

_1885-1914_

_Beloved Father and Husband_

_Brigadier General of the Glorious Amestrian Military_

* * *

She couldn't tell him. It haunted her that she couldn't spit it out. It was as if there'd been a shard of shell in her throat.

He'd been standing on the train platform in Drachma, the cold wind flipping his coat open to reveal his civilian clothes. It had taken some getting used to, seeing him as a fugitive and civilian rather than a colonel for the strongest military on the planet.

"You have to stay here. I can't take you with me, you know that," he said quietly as the train chugged with a thick, oily trail of smoke towards the station.

"You are not leaving me here," she'd protested. "I'm not some dog you can leave at the apartment-"

"Well, you _do _have a dog you need to take care of, so-"

"That is not the point. I'm just as much a part of this as you."

"Yes. But _you _run the base, not me."

That answer had put her in silence. She was guessing that was the intended effect. He continued.

"You know every man on base, his children, his second cousin's aunt twice removed, and how often he uses the bathroom. I would know - you shot through the latrine and pegged a guy's book while he was taking a dump for the fifth time that day to get out of work."

Roy had looked at her dead in the eye. His eyebrows were knitted together as they flickered, and she had wondered if he was studying her face or the other Drachmans standing on the platform. A fleck of snow dropped into his hair, and she almost picked it out in absent minded habit. He always somehow managed to get messy. He grabbed her hand before she could manage this act. Bringing it down to chest height, he had held it between two gloved hands. These gloves were normal, though, without the telltale red thread.

"I might be able to command their actions. But you can command their hearts. You've already managed with mine," Roy said. From anyone else, it would've been cheesy, but the intensity in his face brought to mind war and death, negating the silliness.

And in a way, she couldn't help but admit that this was true. She'd changed since leaving the military. She'd become a little more open, a little more ready to talk. She'd especially grown close to Alphonse, serving as a surrogate mother beside Gracia. She could never give him quite the maternal warmth he needed, but she managed. Perhaps that was the reason for the change.

He'd looked down at her hand, and she'd removed it, though her ring caught on the fabric of his glove.

Most men just go and buy a diamond. Hers had been painstakingly made with alchemy, pressure, and fire. He'd never been the type to do anything halfway.

The train had arrived, and she had known that his mind was made up. If she tried to get on the train with him, he'd just manage to leave her behind. Some way some how, he'd figure out a way to ship her back. So she watched his back as he started for the train. Her eyes had tightened as she watched him go, feeling a sense of destiny and, for some reason, terror.

It was then she realized that she hadn't told him yet.

"Roy... Roy, wait! Wait!"

He'd looked back as the train began to move, a surprised expression through the blur of the window. The door closed completely, and the train chugged faster despite her attempts to grab the handle to the stairs. A train warden had grabbed her, she remembered. In a whirl of arms and legs, they'd gone down, and her last look at him was that same distraught and determined face in the window.

He'd be at Central now. It'd been two days, and she knew her letter wouldn't reach him in time. Tomorrow night, it would start. The mayhem would continue. Things could go two ways - better or worse. She was hoping for 'better', but she was very aware that more likely than not, it'll be 'worse'. Her boys had already begun to make preparations, hiding their camp with sand colored tarps and digging holes to hide their equipment and supplies. Everyone would be waiting today, painfully attempting to stay calm and not run out in the desert with nothing but a knife and a canteen.

Which was basically all she had, when she thought about it. She looked around at her little slice of ruin. There was a single window, formed by the bottom of what had been an ancient frame and part of a tarp. The wooden and tin roof was held up by a single, oaken beam. The floor was concrete, but before it had been sand and old wood. A single trunk at the end of the bed held her possessions, including several of her gun bags and boxes. On the floor lay an old rug, more for Black Hayate's sake than for Riza's own comfort.

She fiddled with the ring on her hand, her mind roiling with unspoken words, a confession that lay inside her quietly, one that would eventually be known yet probably not to the one who needed it most. A black, wet nose suddenly intruded her fiddling, Black Hayate laying his head on her lap. He whined just below human hearing, and she petted his head with a slight smile.

"What's the matter? Gotta go outside?" she asked.

The dog hopped on her bed, and it began to lick her face, despite her laughing protests. She was surprised there was enough laughter in her to come out as a chuckle and a weak, "Hayate, stop it! Get off!"

Black Hayate moved on to sniffing his owner, as if aware of a sudden change. For a moment, she wondered if the dog could sense the myriad of subtle tweaks that she was going through. However, it appeared that her contact with another dog, Sasha, had caught his attention instead as he went back to licking her. She rubbed his ears, and the dog laid down next to her, head in her lap.

Now with something else on her mind, she looked down at the adopted dog that had faithfully traveled to this miserable desert in the middle of nowhere.

"Do you want Papa to come home?" she asked.

Hayate's ears flicked at the mention of Papa. Roy was notorious for feeding him treats when she wasn't looking. If she wasn't careful, Black Hayate would go from a dog to a balloon in as little as a month. Hayate had readily adopted him as another co-owner and Papa to her Mama. It wasn't hard. The two of them were usually together, and she didn't shirk from taking the dog to work with her either when he was a puppy.

"I really hope Papa gets to come home," she muttered to herself, fingering one of Hayate's ears.

Her eyes seemed to dim out of focus as she thought about the one so far away from her, one who shared a similar ring. He had been a figure in her life for so long. It seemed that from the very beginning of her adulthood, he'd been there, a signpost of sorts pointing the direction in which she should take. He was the guiding star, Polaris, in the night when all had gone black. Yet she was aware that his dependence on her was just as strong as her dependence on him. Their struggles, their joys, they were tied together. And yet, those were tied to a third party to their romance, a dark, sinister affliction that tampered with what would've been an otherwise blissful, pure existence.

There was a time when Roy would wake up with magnificent night terrors. At first she hadn't understood, but the more she paid attention the more it made sense the way he gripped her and wouldn't let go. It was those nights that she had to assure him she was still there, alive and well, if a little scarred here and there. It seemed the only thing that would soothe him was the constant hum of a lullaby, his head on her chest as she led him back to sleep. Like a child, he'd fall into slumber with his arms around her, murmuring now and again incomprehensible answers to some haunting question buried within his sleeping mind.

Some days, though... It was the little things that had kept them going. She smiled as she thought of the one time he'd brought back flowers, his fingers pricked with needles and his mouth spouting so many curses, half the camp would turn red in the face with embarrassment. He had offered her that hard won flower, attempting to maintain composure, and she gave him a sardonic, though grateful look.

"Thanks. It's pretty, but I prefer potted flowers. They last longer. This also has dung beetles in it," she had pointed out, much to his horror and instant devastation. His state afterwards would've put anyone familiar with him in mind of his usual attitude on a rainy day. Never the less, she'd put the large, yellow flowers in a bowl of water, an almighty gesture of kindness and appreciation considering the lack of water there was in the desert. It was amazing how those things could either ruin someone's day or brighten it.

There was a knock on her door, and she looked up.

"Come in," she ordered, mentally cataloging the weapons hidden throughout the room. Of course, it must be a bold assassin to knock on the door, but sometimes they were the most dangerous.

"Hey," Al said, poking his head in. He entered, shrugging off his sandy, red alchemist's coat outside the threshold first before hanging it behind the door. A small square of sand ringed where people usually left their shoes and outer clothes to keep from tracking more of the invasive particles into her abode.

She relaxed significantly, Black Hayate springing off the bed in happy anticipation of either a walk or a treat. The dog had grown on Al, the tall boy having almost adopted the canine himself during the long period of waiting, preparation, and grievous ceremonies. Al knelt down and rubbed the dog's head.

"I thought you could use a pick-me-up," Al said, tossing her something. She caught it expertly, frowning.

"Chocolate? Al, I'm a soldier. We don't eat sweets," she joked, though she was both flattered and pleased to receive the gift.

"I think you can manage a few more calories. You're getting skinny," Al said with a sweet smile, and she blinked in surprise. Considering her state, she'd thought it would be the opposite. She really should eat more. Running the base was hard work.

She opened the bar of chocolate and snapped off a piece as Al sat on top of the trunk containing all of her and Roy's worldly goods.

"Um, Riza, are you okay?" Al asked bluntly, and her eyes widened. She chewed pensively on her chocolate, mulling over his question.

_Was _she okay? After all, the purpose of her life was a good thousand miles away... No. He wasn't the purpose of her life, but he was certainly tied to it. Her eyes were suddenly far off as she thought of how her life had suddenly, rudely changed.

Then there was that spark of intuition, the unspeakable knowledge only a soldier could hold in her head and not question it. It was the knowledge that something terrible was happening, or about to happen. She took a look at Alphonse, darkly holding that knowing gaze, and she was horrified.

He had felt it too. He had gained the ineffable knowledge. He was... well, like her.

Simultaneous, they threw together a few of her things and headed out just as the alarm sounded, a noise that many soldiers waited for in the night. Her fingers gripped the knife and gun in her grip, canteen bouncing at her hip as she raced to the command center where all their electronic equipment was kept. Despite their limited resources, Kain had done wonders. He'd turned it into a pirate radio, an interception center, and a hub of activity.

"What? What is it?" she asked. The men were scrambling to their stations, just as had been practiced in the weeks leading to this event. It was no secret that Father probably knew exactly where they were. He was just biding his time, letting them breathe a little longer just to snuff them out in the future at his leisure.

"The coup. It's happening," Kain said, furiously keeping up with the transmissions flying through air. His fingers flew over the switchboard, a thing he'd cobbled together himself. Other technicians were working at the same speed, trying to adjust their instruments to catch those snippets of wavelength floating unseen in the air. She almost held her breath, the hand with the knife pressed to her abdomen. Hayate had followed, panting at her leg, and Alphonse's eyes were haunted as he waited with bated breath.

_"...caught the *crackle* now Fifth and *crackle*venth and *static*"_

"Clean up that transmission!" Kain ordered, so much more demanding now than he ever would've been had he stayed in that city with its snakes in the grass and its brass in their high chairs. Here, things needed to be done, and done fast. This was war, and more importantly, it was war against their kinsmen. They knew every move, they knew every maneuver, and they knew _how to beat them. _

_"-Can't hold it! We've lost *crackle*ground and now... Oh, no... Oh God... Fall back! Fall back! The Commander is down! The Commander is down! I repeat, fall back!" _

Her eyes were far away, listening to the words but never quite understanding their meaning.

_"We've lost Armstrong on North Sector! They're everywhere, and - *screaming*" _

From what she could hear, the other soldiers on the opposite side were just as terrified as the ones she rooted for. The intercept radio talked of monsters, terrible monsters that could eat them whole, unstoppable monsters. Both sides were in trouble, it seemed.

"Get me radio 193, frequency 95.764," Kain ordered, still operating as well as he could, though the same stare that plagued Riza had hit him hard.

_"*crackle* and there seems to be some sort of dome coming over the city! We'll be trapped here! The alchemist says it's some sort of alchemical exchange, Promised Day type-"_

That was all she needed to hear. She didn't want to risk it. She had seen the effects of the failed Promised Day, of the souls extracted and bodies left behind, though not everyone had been siphoned. The country had been held in the thrall of fear, and now _he _was going to try again.

"Al, get the women and children below ground. Is your father down with the bottom sector yet?" Riza asked.

Al's face hardened into a mask of resolve.

"If it's not now, it will be. I'll get on it. Come on, Hayate," Al said, running off to do as he'd been told.

Riza took a hold of a microphone and announced, "All personnel to the below ground shelters. All personnel to the below ground shelters. This is not an exercise. Repeat, not an exercise."

Things seemed to pass by very slowly. All the radio crew stayed on to get as much information as they could, positions, ground conditions. They'd put a dent in this botched alchemical plan, but the men were trapped inside that dome, picked off one by one. She paced, listening to the number of fatalities. They'd lost nearly two hundred men. Included in those two hundred were several officers, good men. But the only name she was listening for on the radio was the man who'd put this all together, who'd put _her _together, who...

_"Edward Muse, KIA. Roy Mustang, KIA. Ronald Musterson, fatality. Ingrid Myers, fatality..."_

"We need to get belowground. It sounds like they couldn't stop it," Kain said, his face strained. He was too young to be dealing with all this. His young, boyish face had lost its baby fat. His glasses made him look older, and there were a few streaks of gray in his hair now, the physical manifestation of the stress of listening to the panic and horror play out over the radio as Amestris tried to cover it up with cheerful propaganda and intense dramas. She looked into his eyes, and she realized that all of them had the same, harrowed look of... not despair, not defeat, but something much more defiant.

It was a gaze that said 'This must not happen again'.

"Of course," She said. There was a crackle as the last officer, probably one of the last platoons alive, put in his word.

_"Reporting in, Officer Hager. This is my last transmission as officer. Our charge was a failure. I have twenty men, and the... the soldiers they have sent are hunting us down. We are underneath the bridge on Alster and Fiftieth Street. We will not hold out much longer. The alchemical circle was not sufficiently destroyed, and too many of the state alchemists who did not abandon the state have fixed it under pain of death or... or worse."_

Riza picked up the microphone, and she pressed the transmit button.

_"This is acting Commander Riza Hawkeye. You are relieved from your duty, sir. You have served admirably, and you will not be forgotten. Escape and come home if you can."_

_"...If it's all the same to you, Hawkeye, I was proud to serve under the oasis. It has been an honor. To the front lines, men! Take them with us!" _

The transmission suddenly died, the radio either destroyed or turned off.

She held the dead microphone in her hand, staring at it dully. She set it down, and she looked at the horizon. Even from here, she could see the dome of energy over the curvature of the earth. It glowed, but it was a mere, dull spot. Kain took her by the arm, and she was led to an underground shelter, to cower like a rat hiding from a feline. She did not take her eyes off that dim light in the distance, but she knew what her aim now was.

"It's over now, isn't it?" Al asked quietly, holding a lantern in the underground tunnel full of people. Men armed with guns were everywhere, most of them not bothering to hide their tears as lists of the living and dead were passed among them.

"No."

Al looked at her with a confused expression. Her face was set in a grim look of determination, of grit and blood and dirt. Her bones were as diamond, her eyes as flint, a heart of fire. She broke away from the rest of her group, and she looked at the door that blocked her from the outside world.

"My children and my children's children and my children's children's children to the last age will be a curse upon them until their bones are dust. I will make sure of it," she pronounced, her eyes seeming to carve a path through space and into time, past the confines of this world and into the next that was to come.

"Men!" she shouted, getting the attention of these broken people. They looked up, surprised.

"Are we cracked and fractured, destroyed? Are we to quit because a single charge did not go as planned? Are we to lay down and die because our leader did not come back home?! Are we helpless mites on the carpet as it's beaten?! You, who were Amestris's best and finest! You, who still are the best and the finest of men and women, who can do battle with _gods! _Are you _beaten yet?! _" she shouted to them. They were silent, almost like perplexed children in shock.

"Answer me, maggots!" she yelled, and they suddenly remembered their military sensibilities.

"Sir, no sir!"

"We will beat them back to their door, will we not?!"

"Sir yes sir!"

"We will send them back to the depths of hell from whence they came!_ Will we not?!_"

"Sir yes sir!"

"WE WILL NOT LAY DOWN AND DIE!"

"SIR YES SIR!"

_"From this day, we are refugees. We are the hated and the disgusting and the downtrodden. If we do not succeed, their sacrifice was in vain. We are here on their blood, their bones, their backs, and their sweat. If we can't use them as our foundation, they will have become nothing. Your children, your children's children, and your children's children's children to the last age will be a curse, a plague, a nightmare upon them until their bones are dust and their memory is nothing and we can again walk the surface world, proud and triumphant. This is our purpose! WE ARE THE OASIS IN THE DESERT! WE ARE THE CRY OF THE PEOPLE!"_

_"SIR YES_ SIR!"

She turned from the rallied crowd of soldiers, this remnant of a few thousand under the desert floor. She stared beyond the door to her target.

"Then ready yourselves. We have war to make," she ordered.

Her back turned, she looked at the future from her rooted spot in the threshold of this door. And she thought of her children, her children's children, her children's children's children.

Their curse was a double edged sword, as harmful to them as their enemy. Their geass was declared, but what would it cost them to fulfill it?

And staring into the future with the present rumbling behind her, Riza Hawkeye wept.

* * *

Alphonse sat in the dark. The world had shattered again, and all he could see were splinters. There were so many fragments of his life floating around now. Armstrong, dead. Mustang, dead. Edward, dead. Two hundred, dead. Two _thousand, _dead.

That's when he knew it. He knew this was not going to be enough. They would hold out here for years to come, but they needed a weapon. They needed something groundbreaking. They needed something that could manipulate the fabric of their universe, the very thing the Ishvalans had been scared of, what Scar had detested.

A plan began in his mind, that young, fertile plane of reality that existed only within his brain. The ultimate weapon...

It was time to start. Al had never been a fan of killing. He abhorred the loss of life more than anything. But if something big could tip the scales it would be worth it. To head off the deaths to come. To save the future generations.

They had shattered his world. He would destroy them with the splinters.

* * *

**A/N: **Why hello again! I'm sorry for the late reply ( if it could be called that ) but preparing for university is really hectic and I've had NO time to work on a chapter besides these last few days. Anyways, I hope you like this little flash of the past, considering the last one did so well. That also gives me a little breathing room for awhile, haha!

Now, to the recognition. I give a big thanks to my reviewers, The Travel Writer (glad you enjoyed it!), The Silent Insomniac (Goodness gracious, thank you for your review! That was awesome! And, of course, you've analyzed my writing style very well, and I'm impressed with you've dissected my series. I hope I don't disappoint you.), and Hikari Hellion (I'm pleased you found everything so funny! It's hard to put in such an action heavy series).

My Favoriteer army has suddenly exploded, and these are the new recruits! Big welcome to: straykit, The Pineapple Killer, Satirrian, Aaeri, CrossoversKittyKat, SpaceAlchemy7, , YumeNina, thejabber, Kitty Cat Edward (oh dear, with a name like that), Shan-Shan XP, Shadow moon claw, The Silent Insomniac, Sigma-Del-Prisium, Siari, StainedRed13, and Shadow of the Zephyr. See what I mean by army explosion? But the favorites make me feel like a million bucks!

And now for the Subscriptioneers, all of them are... also in the Favoriteer army. Wow, they really are jumping on this ship! That'd be straykit, Kitty Cat Edward, SpaceAlchemy7, , Shan-Shan XP, Siari, CrossoversKittyKat, and Shadow of the Zephyr.

Now, discussion: _Do you think this series retains any of the flavor of the anime/manga? Is the plot compelling, or the idea intriguing? What did you like most in this chapter? Did you enjoy the fact that some characters were unnamed for most of the chapter? What sort of emotions did you feel reading the chapter? Do you think Riza was portrayed correctly? What about Roy and Alphonse? Kain Fuery? What characters would you like to see portrayed as a part of the Flash of the Past sections? Do you think this is a good way to reveal backstory, or is it extraneous? What do you think could be added or taken out of this story to make it better? _

Well, happy reading! Review, subscribe, favorite- you know the drill. Do whichever to your heart's content. God bless you, and look up leopard slugs.


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